Pass Time
by Lucifer Rosemaunt
Summary: ErikRaoul slash. Haha, cookie for you. An epilogue. :oP
1. Broken

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO. All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: Just a tweak on the ending. ErikRaoul Raoul realizes the music can lead his heart in the right direction (haha, that sounded corny to me!) It isn't too bad (IMHO).

Warning(s): Homosexual content :o) sigh, doesn't that phrase just get you grin --

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

This is the same chapter but I put it in one story now because it was annoying that it was separate. I didn't change anything but this comment. Hope you guys will review again cuz it makes me want to write more… okay I lie, listening to the soundtrack makes me want to write more, but your reviews help me know that someone actually appreciates it. Thanks!

A/N: I absolutely love ErikRaoul pairing, but can never quite find enough of it (as if there is such a thing). Yeah, I want a happy ending, but it just doesn't seem to be working out, so it might be one-sided unless I can think of something. I can just make something atrociously unlikely and spontaneous, but I'll just have to see how it goes.

I've never seen the movie (and I thoroughly regret it, though I will definitely buy it and watch it numerous times) and I've only really read the first chapter of the book. I've seen it on stage once (which was completely awesome), and I listen to it, all the time, since forever, it's the only thing on my mp3 player, both the 2004 version as well as the original London cast singing it. (I even learned to play some of it on the piano)

-

Broken

-

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

-

Raoul wasn't sure if he was dazed because of almost dying or because he had just seen Christine kiss the Opera Ghost. He was numb, but only because he could only feel one thing and he couldn't quite place it.

"You kissed him," he stated. He had been trying to make it sound accusing, but it had just come out as a statement. That kiss had won them their freedom. He had been ready and willing to die just moments before and here he was about to get on a boat to freedom.

"I need to go back," Christine replied. Raoul blinked owlishly. He was certain that he must have lost more oxygen than he realized for Christine just said she wanted to go back. Go back to him, the feeling grew stronger. "I will return shortly."

He wasn't sure if that was supposed to put him at ease. Raoul wanted to reply that he was not going to wait. However, she had basically saved his life and waiting would certainly be a good gesture in response. He had followed Madame Giry down to the depths of the Opera Populaire's cellar in hopes of saving Christine's life, in hopes of satiating his curiosity, but mostly in hopes of obtaining what he desired. He knew that if the Opera Ghost truly loved Christine, he would never hurt her. The phantom had tutored her in singing and was the only reason Christine obtained her leading role. He had been far from worried about her safety. He knew that he would fight for her if she needed him to, it was necessary for a gentleman to do so. However, he had needed to see this ghost, this phantom for himself. A closer look at someone he had heard so much about and knew so little at the same time.

Raoul was a man who loved music. Loved it because it was something he could lose himself in, forget about the world around him and just let the melodies and rhythms take him away. Music opened his mind to understand life better, to understand himself better. It was the music that lead him to become infatuated with Christine, but it was also the music that made him realize it wasn't love. It was childhood crushes, nothing more. It was the music that made him feel most alive. That was the main reason he invested in the Opera House. It was the main reason he could not seem to stay away.

Don Juan Triumphant had made him realize something about himself that he had yet to really come to terms with. When he fell in love with the music, he had fallen in love with the composer. Music is the window to a person's thoughts and emotions and Don Juan Triumphant, the little that had been able to be shown, made Raoul feel like he knew the Phantom, and knew him intimately. He couldn't believe that he didn't see it before. Didn't see that his love for Christine was the result of the love of her voice. A voice that would not even hold a candle in comparison to the one who taught her. Sitting in Box 5, Raoul noticed immediately when Piangi had ceased to be the lead. Who would not be able to tell the difference? The strong tenor that resonated through his whole body, told him that Christine's Angel of Music had disposed of Piangi. Angel of Music, how appropriate, was the only thought that passed through his head, so entranced by the music. He had been caught by the ghost's voice and was more than willing to remain so, but she had to unmask him. He had not gasped or shied away as everyone else had, it was a disfigurement, but he had been expecting it. No one who could be that brilliant could in turn be perfect as well. Raoul had always known the balance was there. He had been told he was handsome, but no where near as brilliant, while the phantom was brilliant and no where near as handsome. He was handsome on the side that was not disfigured. Raoul could just imagine what he should have looked like. With a face like that and his talent, the phantom could have had anyone he wanted, even himself, Raoul admitted.

Standing by the boat, waiting for his supposed fiancé to return, he couldn't help but grimace at the thought of having to marry someone who could cast away a person after he had done so much for her. The Phantom of the Opera had done everything for her and she repaid him with a denial and a betrayal. Staring blankly into the water, he hears her returning and realizes he wants nothing to do with her. Fickle as she is.

He scoffs at the mere idea of a secret engagement. Scoffs at the idea that she could call an angel a monster in the same breath. Scoffs at the idea that he thought he could have spent his life with her.

"Raoul," Christine snaps him out of his reverie, "I'm ready to go." She holds her hand out for him to take.

Raoul gently grasps her hand and helps her into the boat. Handing her the pole to hold, he moves to get on as well, but at the last moment, pushes Christine and the boat as hard as he can far into the lake. He registers her look of utter shock and relishes the moment.

So, she is betrayed in turn.

He turns around without even making certain she is able to cross safely. Her life is no longer of his concern. He finally realizes what he had been feeling earlier. He felt jealousy. Jealousy when she was able to kiss the Phantom and he was not. Jealous that all the phantom's affections were being wasted on such a fickle girl – one that took and took as much as she could and left you with nothing. Jealous that songs were not being written for him, by that brilliant mind and even more passionate soul.

He turned towards the path that Christine had just come from and arrived in time to see the Phantom about to leave.

Feeling his throat dry considerable, he barely managed a, "Wait," to stop him.

The Phantom turned around and glared as soon as he saw who it was. Looking toward the Punjab lasso that was a mere arm's length away, he turned back to Raoul. He said dangerously low, "Come to gloat? Come to make certain the monster is killed?"

Raoul could only stare. Stare in complete awe as that passion was finally directed toward him. Even earlier when his life was at the Phantom's fingertips, the man had barely spared him a glance. Barely tore his gaze away from his precious Christine.

Seeing that he was not getting a response, the Phantom's anger rose, as did his voice, "Did I not tell you to leave? I let you free. Just go. I will not be so kind again."

Raoul saw the sadness in the Opera Ghost's eyes and knew he could never compare to her, but he would speak his mind before he did the noble thing. He would at least force answers.

The Phantom stared at the blonde before him. He was an enigma, this creature of light. The blonde hair so different from Christine's brown caught the meager light in his lair and appeared to create a halo around him. Of course she would fall in love with him, he thought to himself.

The first question that Raoul truly needed to know, as he saw the Phantom stalk toward him, "What's your name?" He asked barely above a whisper. The closer the man got, the more Raoul's heart constricted within his chest. Someone who he could never have was so close. So close, yet emotionally so far. He was certain that he was hideous in comparison to Christine. She received affection everywhere she went, while people were attracted to his wealth, his title.

The Phantom paused for a moment, shocked at the question that had come from the boy. Figuring that he had nothing to lose, since he had already lost it all but a few minutes ago, he answered, "Erik."

"Erik," Raoul let the name wash over him, let it settle where his heart beat sporadically. So the Angel of Music had a name, "Erik."

Said man felt shivers run down his spine when he heard his name whispered with such reverence from those lips. Lips he was suddenly so fascinated with that he could not look elsewhere. He forgot that this was his enemy, his rival. He forgot that Raoul should be currently stealing away from his dungeon, his life, and that he should be planning his marriage to Christine. When the boy said his name, Erik could only stand and watch those perfect lips form the word.

Erik bit his bottom lip in an effort to force himself to concentrate. He became angry, because anger was an emotion he could handle, it was an emotion that wasn't as confusing. "Did I not tell you to leave? Go!" He yelled in the Vicomte de Chagny's face. Yet the boy did not flinch. Just stared into his eyes as if trying to search for answers there. Search for reasons. Erik had no reason. He glared harder.

Raoul was trying to decide what his next question would be, but his body was having a strong reaction to the heat he felt radiating off of Erik. He grinned softly as even in his mind the name brought butterflies to his stomach.

Erik, so close, could not miss the grin on the Vicomte's face. Could not tear his eyes away from those lips again. He bit his lip harder and tasted the copper of his blood. He had to turn away, but he couldn't. How could the boy grin in the face of a monster? He did not have his mask on, hadn't since the scene of Don Juan Triumphant. How could he look upon his face when his beloved could barely do so?

Raoul had finally decided on his next question. He was determined to keep asking questions until Erik (he grinned a little wider) forcibly stopped him from doing so, but he knew he was short for time. So, he needed to know the truth, needed to know if he was only fooling himself, "Why do you love Christine? Why not...?"

Erik caught Raoul as he lurched forward. Someone had shot him. Erik looked down at the blood slowly staining the shirt and knew he had to get away. He knew it was not a deep wound because the blood was not spreading quickly. With Raoul he would be slowed considerably, barely taking a moment to consider it, he hoisted Raoul up into his arms and ran for the nearest tunnel. Surprisingly Raoul was light and to his astonishment, Erik thought to ask him about his eating habits when he awoke. Making his way through the labyrinthine passageways, Erik did not stop until he was behind many walls, trap doors, and passageways. Light from the outside filtered through a crack, signaling that if anyone did find them, they would have an alternative exit. It was a reprieve from the deep darkness that Erik had practically been running in. Far from where the police would ever be able to make it, no matter how lucky they were. Too many secret doors and walls. It was a maze and many would die trying to find their way out if they were not careful. Even the way out was through a tunnel.

Placing Raoul's body gently onto the floor, he checked his shoulder and for the first time in many years thanked God for something. Thanked Him that Raoul had merely been grazed. Thanked that in the darkness the police had been a terrible shot. He had fallen forward and lost consciousness because of shock. The Vicomte was still barely out of his youth, he would not know the extent of real pain. A sword and a gunshot wound were different; the shock of feeling such force of a bullet would shock any system. He did not even see it coming.

Tearing a piece of his shirt off, he wrapped Raoul's shoulder to help stop the bleeding, though it had started to clot already. He did not want to admit to himself that he was worried. If it had only been a graze, then Raoul shouldn't be unconscious still. Hurriedly, he checked to see if Raoul had sustained any other injury. None. Erik was not certain if he should be relieved or even more worried. No other injuries meant that he was unconscious for some other reason.

Leaning against the tunnel wall, he gently placed Raoul's head upon his lap as he watched the light steadily increase. It was probably the closest thing to watching the sunrise he had experienced in a long while. He tried to clear his mind. Too many things to wonder about. He wondered why he had taken the Vicomte with him. He could have just as easily left him behind; certainly they would not have been stupid enough to think he was the phantom. He wondered why he could barely concentrate when he was standing so close to him. He wondered why he hadn't killed him on first sight upon his return. Most of all he wondered what he was about to ask before he had been shot. Why had he loved Christine? And why not, why not what?

Erik began to doze off, feeling the events finally catch up with him.

Raoul awoke slowly and painfully. He found that Erik's hand rest gently upon his chest, as if to make certain his heart was still beating, while the other hand was tangled in his hair, as if he had been trying to smooth it out for him. He sighed, thankful for this dream. He was certain that he must be dreaming or he must have died. He closed his eyes just to feel the phantom's hands more clearly, memorizing the feel of it. He didn't know heaven could be this dark, but then again, his angel was one of darkness and any moment spent with him was worth it. However, he still hurt, which was a sign against his being dead. The pain in his shoulder hurt less than it did earlier, dulled by the innate cold of the tunnels, but still throbbed with each beat of his heart.

He couldn't suppress the urge to giggle. Maybe it was the tension, or maybe he had simply gone insane, because for the first time in his life, the Vicomte de Chagny giggled. He giggled because of the whole situation. His head was lying on the lap of his current interest and ex-rival for the affections of a girl he no longer desired. While some part of him wanted to scream in frustration, another wanted to cry, so he let the other side that just giggled at the insanity of it all.

Erik woke at the sound of Raoul's initial sigh. He didn't move, wanting to relish the moment before any other questions bothered him. He would have to face reality eventually, but until then he would pretend to be asleep. He was about to continue pretending when he heard something he suspiciously thought was a giggle come from the boy on his lap.

"Did you?" The question died on his lips when he saw the blush creep onto Raoul's face. It was quite endearing and Erik had to look away since all he really needed to do was bend a little lower to kiss those lips.

Unfortunately for Raoul, he didn't have anywhere to turn. He could not turn away from Erik for then he would be on his injured shoulder and if he turned the other way, well then, he would have come face to... waist with Erik. He couldn't stand much more embarrassment. Raoul finally wondered what he was doing in a semi-dark tunnel with the Phantom of the Opera. Not that he minded any one bit. So, he just lay there waiting for Erik to make the first move.

Erik on the other hand did not know what to do next. They could not yet return to his home, for he was certain they would not have cleared out by this time. The Opera House had probably burned down to the ground so there was no need to worry about entrances from there. He needed to know what to do with the blonde. He knew they couldn't just stay underground. In fact, he did not even know why Raoul had returned in the first place. Returned when he had the opportunity to escape with Christine. Erik mused for a moment, it was one of the first times he had truly thought of Christine. She had been the farthest from his mind for one of the possibly longest times.

He realized detachedly that slowly the images he once held close to him of her were being replaced by the young man sharing his darkness with no complaint. The young man who saw his face and did not flinch, did not flinch to his anger or his wrath.

Christine had flinched, looked away each time and yet was drawn back. He wondered about his affections toward her. He thought he had loved her, but how could he love her and yet forget her so easily. It shouldn't be possible. He remembered her response to him the first time he revealed anger, anger of the Vicomte's attentions. She had flattered him and then asked him to grant her his glory. Was that all that he was to her? She had never once asked to see him until he became angered, until she feared that she might lose her tutor. Everything she had done was to benefit herself in some way, and he realized with a twinge of regret that he had not noticed. He had been obsessed, not in love. Love would have been understanding if not blind to his looks. Love would always remember.

Yet, here was someone who did not care about his looks. Raoul was at the complete mercy of an Angel of Darkness and he did not fear at all. He did not fear what Erik could do with him injured, but merely waited for the outcome.

Erik would have to initiate some conversation, some open rapport in order to figure out the outcome. For the first time, he did not have a plan. So, he would obtain the information he so badly wanted. Receive answer to the questions that plagued his mind, "What were you about to ask before you were shot?"

Raoul finally looked toward his saviour. He knew the question would be asked, but he didn't want it to be answered in this way. He struggled to sit up, but the pain in his shoulder was too much, "Can you help me up, please?"

Erik stared at him thoughtfully for a moment before answering, "No."

"What?" Raoul looked at him in shock. It was a simple request. This conversation was not one he was going to have literally lying down.

"I said no. Not only will you hurt your shoulder more, but there is not enough room," Erik almost patted himself on the back for the lie. His shoulder would have been absolutely fine, and there was more than enough space for him to sit elsewhere. However, the feel of the boy under his fingertips was a bit intoxicating and he was not about to relinquish his hold. His hands had not moved, so Erik merely applied a little pressure when he felt the blonde trying to get up again.

"Are you going to answer my question?" Erik asked again when Raoul finally stopped moving. Raoul was sulking, and Erik thought it cute.

Looking around, he knew it was hopeless to maintain his dignity if he answered that question while lying on Erik's lap. He knew there was no other way, as the Phantom he was quite persistent, and Raoul knew as Erik he would be just as persistent.

"I was going to ask you," he spared a glance at Erik before turning to face away to the wall, "Why do you love Christine? Why not me?"

They both froze. Raoul because he feared the answer, and Erik, well because of the same reason. He had learned that he didn't love Christine. So that would be easy to answer. However, the second question took him by surprise. Why hadn't he fallen in love with the Vicomte? Easy answer with not so easy repercussions. He had. He had fallen in love with the Vicomte every time they clashed. Had he not been obsessed with Christine, he knew he would have gone through great lengths to make Raoul his. Had the circumstances been different, Christine would never have been involved. Life would have been easier, he supposed.

How could he not fall in love? He was everything. But he did have him now. He had the object of his desire so close, and life wasn't that easy. He couldn't answer that question. He just knew that he couldn't. They would never work. Never. If he loved him, wouldn't life be easier? He couldn't have fallen in love. No. That's impossible. He was only asking for more pain if he thought otherwise. He hated the boy. Erik felt the familiar anger overtake his senses. Some part of him knew what he was about to do was wrong, but he forced that feeling down. The boy was probably playing tricks on him. He denied having ever thought of loving the boy.

Raoul had been watching the emotions flit across Erik's face. At first he was hopeful at what he saw, but the more that he watched, the less he wanted to see. Erik didn't love him. He would tell him so. Raoul was more than a little hurt when Erik pulled his hands off of him as if he had been burned. So his fate was sealed. A life without passion, a life without love, a life without music.

"Get out," Erik said pushing Raoul off his lap.

Raoul cried out in pain. He had landed on his shoulder. He struggled to stand up, and had to fight a wave of dizziness that overcame him.

Erik almost moved to help him, but he wouldn't allow the boy to trick him, wouldn't allow it because he was just lying to himself. He felt nothing for him, nothing.

Raoul had known it was hopeless in the beginning and wondered at the cruelty of Erik giving him some hope only to quash it so harshly. "Where," he gasped slightly, bent over trying to catch his breath, "where is the exit?" He closed his eyes as he felt the familiar burning of tears. He wouldn't let him see him like this, broken.

But it was too late, Erik saw. He saw and memorized one last time the sadness that emanated from Raoul's posture, tears, that came from his very soul. No, he would not allow him in, he would not let the boy become too much for him. However, he also knew that he would see Raoul just like this every time he thought of him, every time he thought of what happiness could have been like; he would remember he destroyed it himself. He couldn't destroy both their lives though. I hate him. I hate him. The mantra repeated in his head, even as he felt tears beginning to form.

Erik brushed past Raoul without a second glance and opened the door that would lead to Raoul's freedom.

"Follow the light down the path, it will take you to your world," Erik left the suddenly too small space and Raoul alone. He opened a door from what once was Raoul had thought was a wall and just as quickly shut it again.

Raoul was left alone with only one way to go, out. He would have felt along the wall to see if he could follow, but Erik had made it clear he didn't want him.

Raoul placed a hand on the wall knowing he would never find the latch to open it. He leaned on the boundary that separate him and his love forever and let the tears fall. Let them fall for everything he had gained and then lost in such a short period of time. A lifetime he lived that lasted barely a day. He felt his heart slowly break. He couldn't breathe, could barely move. Finally, he let himself out. Closed the trap door behind him and walked toward the sunlight.

Erik cursed himself. He leaned against the door he had just left and let the sobs wrack his whole body. When Christine had left that final time, he was sad, but he could go on. He was already up and leaving when Raoul had entered. With Raoul gone, he just wanted to relish in the pain. He deserved to feel this horribly. He couldn't move, he couldn't do anything but picture Raoul. Picture him leaving him forever.

So he did the only thing he could do. He just lay there staring into the darkness while tears slowly dropped to the cold unfeeling floor.

-

A/N: Damn, I guess no happy ending there. Of Course there's bound to be a continuation. No way in hell, I'm leaving them apart, however that one may take a while to write (since I skipped doing homework and work to write this one). Sorry for any grammatical errors, didn't check it too diligently.

Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!


	2. Torture

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: Continuation of Broken. ErikRaoul slash fic. A brief moment of happiness after they split up.

Warning(s): homosexual content, slash!

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: It's times like this I wish I had read the book because then I would include more characters like Philippe but I really don't know it well enough. So, we've basically just got a stage ALW-verse of POTO. Hope it's good enough.

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Torture

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By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

-

Life was getting progressively worse for both men. A mere three days from the incident and both were in the worst of conditions.

Raoul had fallen ill. He lay in his bed not eating, not drinking, not speaking, and the only act he did was sleep, and even that was fitful. His family was starting to worry for him. He looked pale and had a high temperature. No one could get him to do anything. They figured it was due to the brush with the Phantom of the Opera. It was, but not in the way they thought.

Christine had visited once, right after he had been brought home. It was the only time he had spoken. He became enraged, yelling at her and telling her to leave him alone. Their engagement was off and he never wanted to see her face, hear her voice, never wanted to be in her presence unless absolutely necessary.

The household had heard the story of how Raoul's and Christine's lives were saved with a kiss. They assumed Raoul felt betrayed. He did, but once again not in the way they thought.

He was barely conscious, and his family feared that if they didn't do something drastic they would lose him.

Raoul was letting the dreams take over. He often saw the eyes of his love, thought he was being watched. He could still feel Erik's hands on him. Sometimes he imagined he could also remember being carried through tunnels when he had been shot. He didn't want to live. Nothing was worth it. Nothing. Seeing Christine had only rubbed salt into his already open wounds. At night, when he was finally left alone, he cried. The first two nights, he cried without ceasing until morning. By the third night, he had no more tears. Raoul could only stare into space. He welcomed the darkness. He always felt a little closer to Erik in the night. Felt that the shadows might be something more, be _someone_.

Raoul was waiting. He wasn't quite sure yet what that was, but he was beginning to assume it was death.

-.-

Erik had scarcely moved from his position from the floor. He, too, had run out of tears before the pain had even begun to recede. If anything, Erik was feeling worse with each second that passed.

He was waiting, too. He was certain though and obstinately waiting for death. He had come to the conclusion that he deserved it. It wasn't because of the murders he had committed. It wasn't because of the kidnapping. It was because he had made an angel cry.

Erik closed his eyes. He was not sure how long he had been lying on the floor, but he knew that it had been more than a day. He had barely moved. He didn't have any strength to do so.

He knew though, that he had to make sure that Raoul had made it out safely. He convinced himself that the only way he would be able to die in peace – though he thought he didn't deserve a peaceful death – would be to check on Raoul. Thoughts of the Vicomte were the only ones he had. He would have gotten up sooner to check, but his body had refused to move. His mind had refused to think beyond the fact that he had hurt Raoul and had sent him away, probably forever.

Erik rolled over onto his stomach and forced himself into a crawling position. The only motivation he had was the thought that Raoul might have fainted again and not been able to get out. Spurred on by his fear for the blonde, he stood up, leaning heavily on the door he was to open. He made his way through the door and into the tunnel that would lead him out of the passageways. He was relieved to see that it was night, or else he would have had to wait, and he could feel his energy leaving him already.

It had taken too much effort to pull himself off the floor.

He took to the shadows. It was well into the night and no one was about in the city. Still he was wary of being so open. He paused once to look at the extensive damage done to the Opera House. Blackened by the fire and almost to ruins. He would have felt remorse, if he had any emotions left. Putting that aside, he walked toward the direction of the Vicomte's house. He knew where it was because he had had to know everything about a rival. If he had been forced, he could have killed the Vicomte as he slept in the 'safety' of his own home.

The estate was not very far, but Erik was stumbling already. He had not seen Raoul in the passageway, so it meant that he had made it outside. So, if he had made it that far, someone would have sent him home. Erik wasn't sure what he wanted to find. Maybe Raoul had already moved on with his life and decided Christine was the girl for him. Maybe he was just as miserable as Erik was. Pining for a love lost. These expectations were his only companion as he made his way through the streets of Paris.

Scarcely an hour before dawn, Erik finally arrived. He slipped onto the grounds, the shadow that he was, and looked through all the windows in search of the one that would reveal his blonde angel to him. He was weary and worried. After searching through almost half of the windows, he finally spotted the room that held his beloved.

Erik was still on the line between denying his love and accepting it. It would all depend on Raoul's appearance. He had to be certain.

He made his way up to the balcony and crouched just outside the balcony doors. No light shone in the room, so he could not see Raoul directly. He could only see the bed and a faint outline of someone with blonde hair. Erik assumed it was this one. He could just feel it.

He was almost satisfied with the fact that Raoul was home in bed, but a strangled cry made him investigate further. He made no sound as he opened the door and slipped in.

Walking silently closer, he knew it was Raoul, knew because each step closer, he could feel his heart beat again. When he was close enough to touch the Vicomte, he saw that Raoul was having a nightmare.

Kneeling bedside, Erik moved to still his thrashing form. Raoul reached out and grabbed his shirt pulling him closer. Erik didn't bother to struggle. He wanted to be closer, needed it as much as he needed air to breathe. Softly, Erik sang to him to soothe him.

_Nighttime sharpens,   
Heightens each sensation.  
Darkness, stirs and wakes imagination.  
Silently the senses abandon their defenses. _

Slowly, gently  
Night unfurls its splendor.  
Grasp it, sense it,  
Tremulous and tender.  
Turn your face away, from the careless light of day!  
Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling nights.  
And listen to the music of the night.

Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dream!  
Leave the thoughts of life you knew before!  
close your eyes and let your spirit start to soar.  
and you'll live, as you've never lived before.

Raoul immediately calmed at his voice, but he had yet to release his hold of Erik. This close, Erik could feel the unhealthy heat from Raoul's body. He placed a hand on the Vicomte's head and was shocked at the temperature. His Vicomte was sick. Erik didn't want to leave his side, but he could feel the stirrings of his waking. The sun would surely be up soon, and with it, Erik would have to disappear. Still, he could not remove Raoul's grip of his shirt without injuring the blonde further.

Erik contemplated the boy's reaction if he woke up and found Erik sleeping beside him. He grinned at the idea, but immediately lost his amusement when he figured the Vicomte would be infuriated and yell at him. However, he couldn't leave Raoul alone. He would have to somehow watch over his angel since no one around was doing a good enough job. Kissing him softly on the cheek, Erik finally managed to be released from Raoul's grasp. He made his way towards the balcony doors, wondering why he had given into the impulse of kissing him. Without warning, someone opened the room's door. As quickly as he could Erik slid behind the curtains, thankful for their cover. He blended in perfectly with the shadows, years of practice coming to his aid. It was a maid. She took the untouched tray that was bedside away and replaced it with a new tray with fresh food.

Erik had to wait until the room was empty. However, the moment the maid left, Raoul began to wake up. It was barely dawn, and Erik wondered why he was waking up at such a time.

Raoul placed his hand upon his cheek, the same one Erik had kissed. He had had a dream. One of the better ones, in which he actually could hear Erik's voice singing to him and holding him. He had dreamt of a kiss. Raoul sighed. It was dreams like those that made him want to stay alive and die at the same time. If he died he would never have those dreams again, but whenever he had them he would be reminded they were all just that, dreams. The Vicomte turned to his side and saw the tray of food. He hadn't had an appetite since that day he refers to as the 'incident'.

He heard footsteps coming toward his room and closed his eyes, hoping the person would assume he's sleeping and leave him alone. It was his mother. He knew it without having to look. Yesterday, she had decided that the only way to cure him was to be beside him all day.

Erik pressed himself further against the wall. He was tiring and felt trapped. If he had left sooner, he would not be stuck in his love's bedroom.

"Are you feeling better?" the woman who entered the room asked.

Raoul ignored her.

"I know you're awake," she continued as though he had answered. She put a hand on his forehead, feeling for his temperature, "You aren't getting any better. You've been bedridden since you arrived from the Opera House fiasco. It's because you aren't eating. The only time you ever get out of bed is to use the restroom. You will never get better in this manner."

Raoul still ignored her. Ignored the truth in her words. He wasn't sure he wanted to get better. It seemed the sickness was giving him better dreams, so remain sick he would. Raoul heard her sit in the chair that was beside his bed.

His mother continued to talk, "It's a sad thing about this whole affair with you and Christine. I thought you two made such a beautiful couple. I cannot believe you broke off your engagement with her."

Erik couldn't help the relief he was feeling. He had been annoyed at first with the presence of the woman. It was evident Raoul didn't want her around, but if he could obtain the information of what had occurred he would bear standing in the shadows. He was distressed to hear Raoul had been sick the whole time. It did not appear that his shoulder bothered him, at least Erik would not have to worry about an infection. It seemed that Raoul was taking their last meeting badly. Some selfish part hoped it was because of _him_ and not because of some other reason.

"I cannot believe you yelled at her in such a manner."

Erik grinned. He reprimanded himself. He shouldn't be this happy to hear Christine was yelled at. He shouldn't but he was.

"And, now. Now what. You will yell at a perfectly nice young lady, but you refuse to speak to any one else? I am quite insulted with that fact. I would like to hear you speak again. I would like to see you well and eating. It pains me to see you in such a condition."

He lost his happiness. Erik felt each word pierce his heart. Raoul was hurting because of him. Hurting because he had broken his heart. It was some sort of poetic justice that he would have to hear what he had done. See the damage he had caused.

-.-

The woman hadn't stopped talking since the morning. She hadn't left Raoul's bedside and hadn't shut her mouth for the whole time. Raoul had shifted positions on the bed, no longer pretending to be asleep since it would have done him no good anyway. He just stared at the ceiling lost in his own thoughts. Erik, too just stared, stared at Raoul every chance he got. It was now noon and Erik was leaning more heavily on the wall behind him. He was tired. He had barely slept and the woman's incessant chatter made his fingers twitch for his trusty Punjab lasso. This was a form of torture he never would wish upon all his worse enemies. He closed his eyes, but couldn't drown out the talking. He would surely kill the woman before the day was through.

Raoul hadn't spoken since he yelled at Christine, but he knew he would lose his mind if he was continued to be babied as such. His mother had talked all of yesterday, and by all, she had spoken nonstop except for the times she had been eating from morning to night. Another day would be torture, pure torture.

"Moth-" his voice cracked. His throat was dry and felt completely unused. His mother poured him a glass of water and handed it to him.

"Oh, dear," she started.

Raoul raised a hand to stop her from talking. He paused a moment to relish in the silence, "Mother. Will you please leave me be? I just wish to rest."

Shaking her head, she replied, "No, no. I will not leave you alone until I am certain you are on your way to good health."

Erik could have kissed Raoul just then. He had made the woman stop talking. It didn't seem possible.

Raoul looked around for something to save his sanity. He spotted just the thing, "If I eat, will you then leave me alone?"

"I would need to see it occur, then yes, I will leave you to your solitude, if that is what you really want."

Reaching toward the bread, he replied, "It is indeed what I want." He took a bite and another until it had disappeared.

Looking appeased, his mother stood up and walked out of the room. Raoul sighed in relief. She was finally gone. He stood up once he heard her footsteps fade and locked the door, throwing the key to the floor. The room was silent and he closed his eyes to revel in it. He had almost forgotten what silence was like. He climbed back in bed, not wanting to do anything else but brood on his misery.

Erik saw his opportunity. He waited, waited until the Vicomte's breathing had evened out. He needed to get out of that room before anything else happened, daylight or not; he couldn't remain standing. He was already about to fall from exhaustion. Slowly he pulled the curtain aside and made his way toward the doors. Back turned to the bed, he only realized he had been caught when he heard the gasp.

Erik froze. He wasn't sure if he should just make a run for it or turn around and face him.

"How long have you been standing there?" Raoul whispered, afraid that the vision before him was indeed just a ghost and not the man himself. It could have been a hallucination.

Erik turned around but refused to answer the question. The Vicomte looked pale in the sunlight. He looked younger too, almost swallowed up by the size of the bed he lay on.

Raoul touched his cheek again. _Had it_ been just a dream. He had been so certain when he awoke that he heard Erik's voice. "You sang to me."

Erik felt himself walking closer to the bed. He hadn't planned to, but he felt pulled by some force to gravitate closer to Raoul. He needed to justify himself, "I had to make certain you were safe." He stood awkwardly beside the bed. Raoul reached out, like he had in his sleep and pulled on Erik's shirt forcing him to sit on the bed. "You were having a nightmare."

"I've been having them since we parted," Raoul stated, lost in Erik's eyes. The Vicomte pulled him even closer. "Of the darkness and the sadness. It comes to me every time I sleep, chasing me from my rest."

Raoul buried his face in the Phantom's shirt, and was relieved when he felt Erik's arms wrap around him, protecting him from those bad dreams. Erik moved to let go of him for a moment, and Raoul whimpered, saying desperately, "Not yet, no, don't leave just yet."

"Shh," Erik rubbed circles on the blonde's back in what he hoped was a comforting gesture, "I'm just moving to a more comfortable position." Erik laid down, pulling the Vicomte in a hug as close as possible to him. He just wanted to rest for bit. Raoul somehow moved closer. He rested his arm on Erik's side and slipped his legs between the other's so that they were practically touching stomachs. Raoul breathed in the scent that was Erik and fell into a peaceful sleep.

Erik could not force himself to stay awake any longer. He had wanted to memorize this feeling. Their legs entwined and Raoul holding him as if he was the most important person in the world. He needed to remember this because after this moment, he knew that he would not be able to allow death to claim him until he could have a complete life with the man in his arms.

He soon followed Raoul into slumber.

-

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!


	3. Dilemmas and a Naked Vicomte

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: Continuation of Broken and Torture. ErikRaoul slash fic. No plot really, just musing, accidents, and bad habits that are forming.

Warning(s): homosexual content, slash!

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: I just finished writing this and realized that there is absolutely no plot. At all, not that that's a wholly bad thing, but just don't expect too much. Of course I'll continue it and was thinking if I should just do it all on one page, but then again why mess with a cliff hanger?

.-

.-.-.

Dilemmas and a Naked Vicomte

.-.-.

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

.-.-.

.-

Raoul woke up feeling better than he had in a long while, since before he even first laid eyes on the Opera Populaire. He reached out his hand to feel the other side of his bed and found nothing but empty space. Warm empty space. He mused. Erik _had_ been there and he hadn't left that long ago. He felt disappointed to not wake up with Erik holding him, comforting him, but was ultimately relieved to have evidence that he hadn't just dreamt that whole event.

Erik had come to his bedroom. He had sung to him. He had held him. It was more than Raoul ever really thought was possible after leaving that godforsaken tunnel. A warm bed. He turned over and relished in the body heat and scent that still lingered faintly in the sheets. Bliss, utter bliss were the only words he could think of in that moment.

He looked around for a moment and realized that though it was darker than usual, it was quite into the morning. He was shocked that the maid hadn't entered his room. He was even more shocked that his mother hadn't. If the phantom hadn't left that long ago, the Vicomte wondered how he could have stayed that long in bed together without getting caught. Every morning since he had been sick, the maid entered the room and left a tray of food and then his mother would enter and stay by the bedside. Raoul looked around the room and saw his room was indeed untouched, the old tray still at its spot, and as he glanced toward the floor, he saw the key to his bedroom.

He grinned evilly and slowly slipped out of bed. Grasping the key in his hand he realized that he could have saved himself a lot of trouble if he had known that he had the only key to his bedroom. Looking around at the empty room again, he sighed after realizing that there would be nothing left to really do in a room by himself. Now, if he had a willing companion, he mused and let the thought drift to many, many others. He couldn't help but think of the phantom, couldn't stop his mind from going back to that voice, that body, that everything.

Raoul threw himself onto the bed, hoping that the last vestiges of Erik's heat were still there; hoping that his angel would appear to him, he looked out the balcony doors expectantly. The Vicomte scolded himself, when no one appeared. 'Of course he wouldn't come, it's practically broad daylight,' he thought bitterly, 'I'm acting like a lovesick girl. It's embarrassing.' He stood up from bed with a new mission. He was no damsel in distress waiting for his knight in shining armor – though he didn't mind being protected time to time, especially if it meant Erik would have to be scandalously close to him. Raoul marched to his closet, searching for some decent clothing. He would go straight to that opera house and... and, do what exactly. He stopped his tirade midway through buttoning his shirt.

The Opera Populaire was probably burned to the ground. After Don Juan Triumphant and the mob were through with it, there really wouldn't be anything left. What about Erik's home? He needed to go there, but not to search out his love just yet, but rather to stake his claim.

.-.-.

Erik was tired and more than relieved to be in the safety of his own tunnels and the darkness again. He had woken up with an armful of a certain Vicomte to the sound of someone knocking loudly on the door. He was a light sleeper and that had been enough to trigger alarms in his head.

The phantom was lucky that he had not jumped out of bed or else Raoul would have woken up for certain, and that was an awkward moment he was glad to have missed.

It was nice though to wake up with the blonde in his arms. Raoul had even snuggled deeper into the embrace, and Erik was loathe to leave. The maid had stopped knocking on the door once who he assumed was Raoul's mother told her to let him rest. Relieved, Erik had laid there, watching as his angel slept peacefully. Watching until he knew that he had to leave. Leave before the Vicomte would wake so that there would be no discomfited goodbyes.

He had told himself that he was going to check on the blonde so that he could die peacefully, but now, he couldn't even do that. He couldn't even die properly.

He had somehow managed his way in the morning light back to the opera house and back to his tunnels. It hadn't been easy, but thanks to the worsening weather, the sun was not as bright and out as it should have normally been. It had been pure luck that a storm was starting to form.

Seeing the opera house in the morning had been a little more comforting though. It had looked worse when Erik had seen it last, and though even now it did look like it had seen better days, the walls and ceiling were still up. The doors were swinging slightly off its hinges and most if not all the windows were broken. The walls were singed black, but nothing extra plaster and paint couldn't fix.

Seeing that the area was indeed abandoned, no activity inside a broken opera house, Erik had been able to walk through the front doors. True, the doors almost did fall off, but it was one of the few times Erik had ever walked through the front doors like any other patron would. The inside, if possible was actually worse than the outside. It was obvious that the interior would have been more susceptible to fire, all the curtains, wood paneling, and carpeting. It was a veritable fire pit. Walking through the empty opera house, he couldn't help but feel saddened. This place had been his home since Madame Giry had saved him. It had been a reprieve from the past which he sought to forget.

Erik became angry with himself. He had to destroy everything he touched. He remembered now why he had told the boy to leave. He would destroy him as well. It was his curse and his face was merely the visible sign of the destruction his presence created.

Suddenly, dying alone seemed more a viable option than he had thought earlier in the morning.

What monster destroys his own home? He raced back to his tunnels, back to his lair to see what else had been destroyed. He needed to keep his mind off the blonde, but nothing seemed to work. He would have to atone for his sins and giving the blonde up was the biggest sacrifice he could think.

.-.-.

Raoul had finally left the house. His mother had finally deemed him well and pronounced it good for his health if he left the house. It had been his goal since he had gotten up in the morning, but it wasn't until after lunch that his mother conceded to his wishes. He had sent a letter to Monsieur Andre and Firmin saying that he wished to continue his patronage of the Opera Populaire. That he would renovate the whole building and bring it back to the status it once was before. Along with the note, he sent a hefty amount of money for the down payment of starting construction.

Now that business was done with, he climbed upon his horse in hopes of seeing the Opera Populaire himself.

Looking up toward the sky, he was disappointed to see that the weather had only worsened. He hurriedly had left to ensure that his mother did not change her mind. Soon, he would have that house to himself though. His family was moving back to their main estate and he would be left alone in Paris. At first he had been planning to go with them, but considering the current circumstances, he was more than eager to be away from his family. His mother was really the only person left with him. Only a minimum amount of the house staff would remain, and Raoul thought himself independent enough to not need that many people.

He could feel the chill wind pick up and urged his horse from the walk he had been in to a quick trot. He sighed in relief when he saw that he was closer, but gasped in shock when he saw the building itself. He wasn't sure if what he saw was a good sign or a bad sign. The building at least was still standing, but compared to the magnificence it once was, it looked like it had been ransacked. It probably would have been if everything valuable hadn't burned.

Raoul realized that the Phantom would be home, and wasn't sure what kind of reception he would receive. He hesitated a few meters from the entrance, but at that moment the skies opened up and a deluge of rain fell from the heavens. He had no choice but to secure his horse and enter. In those few short meters, by the time Raoul was in the relative safety of the Opera Populaire, he was soaked to the bone. He had never experienced rain like that before. He distantly heard the thunder rumble.

The Vicomte took off as much wet clothing as he could and still be considered decent. It was chilly inside the opera house and he did not know if anyone was inside. The smartest thing to do would be to remove all his clothes but common decency disallowed that. Raoul shivered as he continued deeper into the opera house. It was burned. Almost everything was burned and broken. Only the faint memories of the grandeur. As Raoul walked toward the stage he couldn't help but realize there were really ghosts, shadows of the past events flickering before his eyes. He was transfixed on the physically empty stage. He was reliving the first time he had seen Christine, had seen the wonder he felt at the opera, he even relived the first time he realized he did not love Christine more than a dear friend or sister. It was all playing there before his eyes and suddenly all he remembered was darkness.

.-.-.

Sitting silently beside the bed, Erik watched the Vicomte.

He had entered his home to find that the mob had not fully penetrated his domain. Too many trap doors and dark passageways. Unfortunately, they had been led straight into the music room, his organ had been destroyed and much of his life's work along with it. Mostly every other adjoining room was completely fine. He was angrily sifting through the ruins of what once were his compositions when he heard someone enter the opera house. He had almost dismissed it as the rain, but some sense told him it wasn't. The same sense that had told him which room was Raoul's.

He immediately cheered at the prospect of seeing Raoul again, that Raoul had taken the initiative to see him, but fought against the feeling. Erik didn't know what was wrong him. Whenever he rationally thought about the whole situation, he would come to the conclusion that he could not be happy with Raoul, that he could not encourage these actions further. However, the moment that Raoul was present, all he could think about are sweet nothings and promises of forever.

It was a veritable battle between his mind and heart.

Nevertheless, Erik journeyed to the surface to see why Raoul had come. He was surprised because the Vicomte had still been battling illness when he left in the morning. The blonde shouldn't have been out of bed. Yet, there he was in the phantom's domain, obliviously staring at the stage.

Erik looked at the empty stage, then to the Vicomte and back again. There was nothing compelling to see on the burned stage, and yet the Vicomte was staring straight ahead. It was only upon closer inspection of the blonde did he notice the tremors running through his body and that he was slightly swaying. Erik rushed forward just in time to catch the Vicomte as he fainted.

Erik realized that the Vicomte was soaked to the bone and becoming ill once more. In a rush, he carried the unconscious man downstairs to rest. Stripping the Vicomte of his clothing, which Erik reasoned was absolutely necessary for the Vicomte's well-being, was harder (excuse the pun --) than he had expected. The temptation was almost too much for his resolve, but all the years of restraint paid off.

Erik had kept his hands off of the Vicomte, and Raoul, well, the blonde kept his virtue.

So, Erik forced out of his own bed sat, keeping vigilant watch over the Vicomte. The blonde's fever had come back again, but it wasn't too bad. A little rest and being dry was all Raoul really needed at the moment. Erik, himself was getting fatigued. He couldn't sleep in the same bed... again. It seemed to be ritual now that every time Raoul and he met, they would end up sleeping together. And though Erik wanted to, badly wanted to, he couldn't allow himself.

He had to remember that he was going to let the blonde go, cut him off completely. Although technically the plan was supposed to have taken effect immediately, Erik had reasoned out that he couldn't just let Raoul die. That would be unthinkable. So, his plan was put on hiatus until Raoul was feeling better.

Erik realized belatedly that he could possibly never sleep in his bed ever again. He had been staring so long at the blonde that he knew whenever he looked at that bed, he would see Raoul laying there peacefully. Not just any Raoul, but a naked one, lying completely at his mercy. The blonde looked so innocent. Erik bit his lip so hard, he could taste blood. Feeling his hand twitch toward the blonde, he forced himself to think about the worsening weather; it was safer.

.-.-.

Erik had been dozing off in the bedside chair when Raoul started to move. He was reaching out with his hand as if he were looking for something. Erik thought he was having a nightmare at first, but the lines creasing the Vicomte's brow was only one of concentration and confusion. Being so close, afforded him the chance to hear the quiet whisper that fell from Raoul's lips.

"Erik."

Said man stared at the blonde in shock. Even in sleep, Raoul was searching for him. He wanted so badly to join Raoul in bed, but besides the fact that he told himself he wouldn't, the blonde was indeed very naked underneath those blankets.

It would be torture, cruel sweet torture. He couldn't do it. He wouldn't. It was just wrong. It would be punishment for him. He should. It could be considered atonement for past sins. Erik grinned evilly at the idea. He did say he needed to atone for past sins.

His mind was screaming 'yes, join him', but some shred of dignity kept him seated in his chair.

He would surely go insane if he kept allowing his impulses to rule him.

Still, it was during this internal struggle that Raoul awoke with a groan.

"What happened?" the blonde asked turned to face the shadowed figure beside the bed. It was easy to figure out that it was the phantom, besides the fact that he had been in the opera house, Raoul just knew. He was safe and the bed he slept in was like being embraced by the man who he was certain owned it. He wanted to get up, but he could barely keep his eyes open, "I'm so tired all of a sudden."

Erik had to admit, the blonde was cute when he was still half asleep. Looking away, he replied, "That's because you're sick again. Traipsing around in the rain will do that to you often."

He hadn't meant to scold and seeing the blonde flinch at his tone only made him feel worse for it. More reason to stay away from the Vicomte. It would hurt him less, Erik was certain of it.

"I," Raoul hesitated, "fainted?" He hated that word. Men don't faint; women do. He didn't want to look weak in front of the phantom, Erik already refers to him as boy. No need to fuel that practice.

"Yes," Erik shrugged. It was no big deal. The Vicomte was sick and he fainted. Any reason to hold him was a good reason. Dammit, Erik scolded himself, he did it again. He had to stop thinking of Raoul in that manner, as a lover would. He couldn't help himself though, and in the end, Erik realized nothing could prevent the thoughts from occurring, so he just let them flow with the rest of his thoughts.

He was so busy thinking he almost missed Raoul's next question, "And, you found me on the floor?" Raoul asked trying to piece together what exactly happened, since the phantom was not willfully sharing any information.

"No."

"No?" Raoul looked at Erik closer as if to see if he was lying.

"No," Erik continued, "I saw you by the stage and caught you before you fell onto the floor. Would you have liked me to let you hit the ground?"

Sarcasm again. Erik was starting to hate himself. It seemed that he jumped from not being able to be civil to the boy to thinking impure thoughts in less than a moment's notice. Seeing that Raoul took no outward offense, he was relieved.

Raoul made no response but blushed at the thought.

"What?" Erik asked, seeing the blush. There was nothing scandalous at making sure someone doesn't fall when they faint.

The Vicomte looked away fixating on a shadow in the room's corner. He thought of avoiding the question but when he shyly looked back he saw the open look of interest and knew he had to say, "It seems I'm making it a habit of falling into your arms."

Erik saw the blush deepen, even in the candle light. He was confused at first, but then realized Raoul was speaking about the gunshot incident. Raoul was blushing in embarrassment. He was about to respond when Raoul continued.

"I was also hoping that," Raoul couldn't believe what he was about to say and had to look away again. He was starting to find that corner very interesting, "since that's already a habit, that you would continue the other pattern that's formed with our meetings."

Erik immediately knew what he was referring to. He looked toward the same corner and found that it was indeed very interesting to look at. He could feel a blush starting to emerge. It was the same thing he had been contemplating before Raoul awoke.

He just couldn't get into bed with a naked Raoul.

Could he?

.-.-.

.-

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!   
Totally no plot in this one, but hey I do what I want and this is it. Come back for more! Reviews are the air I breathe.

And of course lame question to end with because he really could.


	4. The Hardest Thing

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: Continuation of Dilemmas. ErikRaoul slash fic.

Warning(s): homosexual content, slash!

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: Well, someone brought it to my attention that they were acting kind of OOC…. well, I agree completely, they are. Now the question would be, what am I going to do about it? To tell you the truth, I have no idea. More than likely, I'll just keep writing the way I have been and maybe, just maybe if I write a different fic, then I'll have to pay better attention to characterization. But until then, I hope you enjoy and please don't forget to review. For all I care, just write "hello!"

Thanks for those who already reviewed the other fics and sorry this one took forever, school was ending and finals and moving to my own place was crazy.

Will this one have a plot? Well I don't know yet, it's gotta go somewhere that's for sure.

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The Hardest Thing

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By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

-

Last Time:

"I was also hoping that," Raoul couldn't believe what he was about to say and had to look away again. He was starting to find that corner very interesting, "since that's already a habit, that you would continue the other pattern that's formed with our meetings."

Erik immediately knew what he was referring to. He looked toward the same corner and found that it was indeed very interesting to look at. He could feel a blush starting to emerge. It was the same thing he had been contemplating before Raoul awoke.

He just couldn't get into bed with a naked Raoul.

Could he?

-.-

Raoul couldn't believe he had just asked the phantom to join him in bed, but it _was_ for his health, well at least partly. Erik's home was underground and rather chilly. Another body in the bed would provide the much needed warmth that Raoul wanted. He voiced these thoughts out loud, trying to seem reasonable instead of desperate and move away from the strangely perverted feeling he got when he had asked Erik to join him in bed.

The only reason he had yet to pull the blanket up over his head and try to forget he ever asked was the fact that Erik was actually considering it.

And Erik was truly considering it. The Vicomte had made a very good point. Although he was used to the temperature under the opera house, he was certain that the Vicomte would surely feel cold. That was the reason why Erik had added two extra blankets over the blonde when he had been unconscious.

He was definitely leaning towards jumping in bed with him, but at the last moment, he looked toward the music room which was still in the mess he had left it in earlier. It was that vision of destruction that made him remember who he was and what he did. He was a monster. He destroyed things. He didn't deserve the things he wanted. He slowly brought his hand up and gently touched the white porcelain mask that rested upon his face. He couldn't have the Vicomte. He couldn't because in the end, he destroyed everything that he wanted and had. That fact was perfectly clear, though he may love Raoul (which he still hadn't completely admitted to himself), it would never work out. How could it? The blonde had a life outside of the Opera Populaire; in fact, there was no more Opera Populaire since he had burned it down.

With that last thought, he was certain that whatever had passed between them wouldn't work. There was no longer a reason to be in the same city, much less the same building. Erik had heard before the night of Don Juan Triumphant that the Chagny's were leaving Paris, and now that he thought about it, he had heard Raoul's mother ramble on about what better care Raoul could have in the main estate and away from a city like Paris. Erik wondered what Raoul was planning. He was pursuing a phantom while in the process of leaving the city.

Erik finally looked at Raoul and saw that the blonde was nervously fidgeting with the blanket.

Raoul stared at his hands. It was déjà vu all over again. At first, it always seemed like the phantom would acquiesce to his requests, but then his eyes would harden and then, well, the last time he had been banished from Erik's sight while injured. He followed Erik's eyes towards the music room and saw that his organ had been destroyed. He was about to comment upon it, but he realized that the phantom was deep in thought, and since Erik's expression seemed quite dark, he thought against speaking. It must have been devastating for the phantom to see his organ destroyed, Raoul decided. That organ was the only thing really keeping Erik company and sane, well at least relatively sane. The organ was Erik's life. Music and talent consumed his very being and waking hours.

When he finally realized that, Raoul looked at Erik and realized that he was about to be rejected again. Raoul really wasn't anything. He had nothing to offer Erik now that the Opera House had burned down. But... but, Erik didn't know he was rebuilding it. Erik didn't know that he had already started to rebuild the very thing that he loved. The only problem now was the burning question that if Raoul had any place in Erik's life once music and opera were back in it. Christine had only been a part of his world because she was music and she was the opera. She would surely be brought back and then he'd have competition... again.

He would lose the battle, he was sure of it. Place him against music, opera, and Christine and he was certain to lose the competition for Erik's attention. He was starting to realize just how absurd his infatuation was.

And that was the conclusion Raoul ended up with. It must be an infatuation. He had thought it love. He had thought that he would be willing to do anything for the phantom, but he figured that he must have just been blinded by lust or something. He was on rebound from Christine (that was it); and he easily ignored the fact that he had been the one to break the whole engagement and relationship off. He didn't need to be attached again so soon when the last relationship he had failed.

He would not and did not love the phantom and he would kindly retract his comment, or rather the request he made. Surely the phantom would understand that he had simply been hurting from Christine's betrayal and Erik had been the only person he could have turned to. He saw no need to be rude since the phantom had been inordinately kind to him which was against his very nature.

Raoul could barely ignore the pain he felt when denying his emotions, but he was too afraid to be hurt again and would push the pain down for as long as he was able. He would just have to learn to live without a relationship that was doomed to end.

Erik had silently watched as Raoul seemed to think things over, and when the Vicomte finally looked up to meet his eyes, he could swear he felt his heart breaking one more time. There was nothing in that gaze that had been lingering in his mind every waking and sleeping moment these past few days. All he saw was a sort of resolve, from what he could only guess, and a detached openness one usually reserves for acquaintances. So Raoul had made his decision before Erik could make his. So the blonde had seen him for the monster that he was? That was fine, Erik decided.

He had wanted to make sure that the Vicomte no longer had those types of thoughts and feelings towards him, but he felt a little disappointed and hurt that the Vicomte beat him to the act itself. The phantom had struggled back and forth with these emotions for the last days and in a few seconds Raoul had decided to relinquish all feeling he had of him. It was painful and Erik became angered with the thought. So the boy was exactly like Christine. He was nothing but a fickle, spoiled brat who knew nothing of the meaning of love and loyalty.

Erik sneered at Raoul and before Raoul could say anything, Erik spoke in his normal mocking tone, "No need to beg, Vicomte. I will have to decline. I only bed whores once. I have only loved once."

And before he could see the expression on Raoul's face, he turned and walked towards the deeper rooms of the cellar to continue what he had been doing before the Vicomte had invaded his home, finding his solitude (which he never really had to look for since it always seemed to find him). Once walking past a corner and he was sure Raoul could not see him, Erik leaned heavily against the wall. He hated Raoul at that moment. But moreso, he hated himself. It was best if they did not meet again. It would be better. Raoul would be off to who knows where and Erik would be left to die under the very building that ever gave him a so-called life.

It used to be easy, Erik mused. He used to be able to detach himself from society. To keep himself an arm's length away from any other human being with the exception of Madame Giry. It did help that most of population also avoided him, but he had never needed the company. Now, alone in a cold passageway of his own home, he realized the hardest thing for him now would be to keep the darkness that once consumed him at bay. He had walked away from light and straight into the deepest pits of loneliness. He would let Raoul find his way out and he would let Raoul leave from his home forever. There was no reason to pain himself further when whatever they would have shared had been fated to disaster and more heartache.

His plan to keep Raoul away had ended its hiatus and was now fully in effect, to Erik's dismay.

.-.-.

Raoul was in shock. He hadn't been expecting that at all. He was expecting a rejection but not that cold, harsh demeanor. The Vicomte stared dumbly at the phantom's retreating form.

He tried to think of the upside of the whole situation. Erik had set him free from any restraints. He had wanted to be free and the phantom had given him the opportunity before things got too out of hand, before breaking their connection would be harder.

He slowly got up from the bed and slowly began to put on clothes that were still damp. He could no longer feel the cold or his sickness. It vanished into the hazy numbness that had fallen over his mind when Erik had left. It was the sort of numb confusion he felt before he realized that Christine had never truly loved him. It had been after the incident when this whole fiasco had started.

Christine had kissed Erik. Well, she had kissed who he thought was just a phantom, the Phantom.

She had kissed him and he then felt the burning jealousy of watching someone you love get kissed by a girl you knew would never be good for him. He was certain that she would never love him like he loved... wait, he didn't love the phantom. He didn't, Raoul pushed those thoughts from his mind, pushed the pain he felt whenever Erik popped into his mind in the back of his heart. This was the second time he was leaving this lair and leaving because his heart had been broken. Again, Raoul corrected himself, he couldn't have had his heart broken because he had never loved the phantom.

Somehow, he found himself upstairs, in the opera house itself. Walking outside, he barely registered that the rain had decreased to a drizzle, but then again, as he got on his horse, he barely registered that he could feel anything at all. The horse, only slightly bothered by the rain, trotted its way home with no direction from Raoul. He looked up at the gray skies ignoring the fact he couldn't quite keep his eyes open because of the rain. So much for staking his claim at the opera house. He had not more claim. He just might retract the money, but he knew that he never would.

Raoul couldn't feel and couldn't think. He couldn't comprehend how everything kept returning to heartache, returning to rejection and denial.

He rode all the way home and didn't fully hear his mother complaining to him. He didn't really remember changing his clothes to something that should have warmed him and kept the cold at bay. He couldn't feel the fire that the maid had started in his room's fireplace.

And as he got back into bed to hopefully forget all about this second incident, he detachedly commented to no one in the room, "It seems that not all my tears have been cried."

-

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Okay, not the best work ever, and I'm starting to now realize that I should have just put all these stories into chapters of one story so that you don't have to go looking for which was before which. Too late now, but I might start the next one like that. Not this one though (why? I don't know, I just don't feel like it.)

My grammar sucks a lot right now. I don't understand why, but I've been bogged down by work and my writing has been so intermittent half the time I need to re-read what I wrote in the previous chapters. Sorry about that. Sorry it took so long to update, too. It's not that long, but the next installment will be longer (chapter-wise and plot-wise hopefully). No more of this crappy angst (okay, maybe not 'no more') but more action to go along with it! I had really meant for them to get together in the end of this one, but it just didn't happen.

But thanks to those who reviewed – reviews remind me that I have a story that people actually read.


	5. Updates on Our Heroes

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: Continuation of Hardest Thing. ErikRaoul slash fic.

Warning(s): homosexual content, slash!

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: Hmm... less angst in this one. Okay, I lied. There will probably be a lot since I'm never satisfied with them just getting together. Of course I love angst, but writing it is just a pain because you know that you could just write "they kissed and made up and lived happily ever after" but that would never happen. And it would lose its overall effect.

There is a time differential from the last chapter to this one. So…

As a quick **summary**: Raoul ditches Christine in the boat after she kisses Erik. He goes back to the Phantom who he's realized he's attracted to and while talking to him gets shot so that the two spend time in a dark tunnel (not really doing much -- ) hiding out from the mob. Erik denies his feelings, hurts Raoul's, then sends an injured Raoul away. However, once Raoul's gone, he feels the need to be sure he's made it home okay. Raoul's sick and has nightmares, Erik sings, and they end up sleeping together (really sleeping, not much else besides major snuggling -- ). Erik goes home in the morning and Raoul after giving money to Andre and Firmin for repairs goes to the Opera House. Raoul gets wet because of rain and Erik catches him when he faints from a fever. Erik undresses him, so that later when Raoul wakes up he propositions that Erik should get in bed with him to keep him warm. This time they don't do anything that could be misconstrued (because if he got into bed with a naked Raoul there would be no need to construe anything) because they both realize it wouldn't work and deny their feelings once more. Raoul leaves in a daze and Erik is probably more or less depressed and suicidal, thinking that he will die slowly since the opera house has burned down (since he doesn't know Raoul's rebuilding it).

That's "Broken", "Torture", "Dilemmas and a Naked Vicomte", and "The Hardest Thing" in a nutshell. Now, onto the real story.

Oh yeah, ummm, whatchamacallit, there will be a masquerade because though it's trite, it serves its purpose and Phantom can mingle with everyone else. So sorry for this common idea, but I just like this plot, but hopefully it won't be just any other story.

o.o.o.o

Pass Time : Updates on our heroes o-

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last Time: there's no need for this here because I just recapped everything in the above paragraphs

o.o.o.o

-.-

A couple months had passed since that second incident. The Opera Populaire was actually almost complete, close enough to finished that the managers were already calling back all the old stage hands, chorus girls, prima donnas, and even Christine to live in the opera house in order to start rehearsals. Andre and Firmin had had to fill in the gaps for a couple of the orchestra members and stage hands who were too afraid to work in a "haunted" opera house, but most of the others were loyal and rather believed that the Phantom of the Opera was truly nothing but a ghost now that the mob had ransacked and scoured the lower cellars to the best of their ability (which we all know wasn't that much ability at all).

Rumors had been spread that nothing but a mask was left. No body, but there was blood. Not enough to ensure a death, but it showed that the 'monster' could bleed, and probably died since the months that the opera house had been under construction no peep was heard and no incident had occurred to give the impression that the phantom still existed. With that belief, those wealthy thrill seekers, who sought nothing but stories to tell, had already bought of the first few weeks of whatever opera Andre and Firmin had chosen. But as always, when celebrating a new event, there was to be a masquerade, and it was well known that the Opera Populaire threw the best masquerades. With the threat of the phantom gone, it still had an air of danger to raise the adrenalin a bit. Completely opposed to the overall atmosphere, the opera to be performed was actually in commemoration of the devil of the opera house, the phantom, _Faust_. Still, the audience bought the tickets. It filled the managers with a new hope that money would not be a problem and the opera house would continue to be a success.

Raoul stood nervously just outside of the entryway of the famous and now rather infamous opera house. Raoul had his doubts on the rumor though. He didn't believe that the phantom could be dead. He was too much of a survivor, but sometimes when his guard was down, he would worry about the health of the man and not the ghost. The Vicomte had avoided the opera house like it had the plague. Rather, he opted to stay within the compounds of his own estate that had no one but himself and just a handful of loyal servants. He had let the others go with his mother since more help was needed at the main estate. He had wanted to have the whole house to himself, but his mother insisted that left to his own designs, the house would be in shambles. It would not be appropriate for him to be doing the housework anyway, she insisted. She left eventually and he had the whole house to himself to be depressed.

For days after the second incident he hadn't left the house. His mother was coddling him as much as she could but she was scheduled to leave. Not wanting her to remain much longer, Raoul put on a tolerably cheery face and ensured her that he would take good care of himself and that he was completely better. His mother almost convinced him to leave Paris, but he couldn't. He didn't have to continue his patronage, but he loved the music too much. He couldn't leave it behind. So, she left and so ended Raoul's isolation.

With the cheery expression in place, he resolved to not let the event rule his life, so he searched for the proper amusements any wealthy individual in Paris would be involved in. He met and joined other young men in trivialities as hunting and just generally smoking and talking. It was nothing compared to what life he had led when he was involved in the opera house.

And, in the end, he stayed on his estate. He stayed on his estate because every evening when he returned from his daily excursions, he would always have to return to the cold, empty bed. His nights would be filled with swordfights, jealousy, gunshots, dark tunnels, music, and the warm comfort of another's bed. Then, morning would come, and he never wanted to wake up. He never wanted to leave his dreams no matter the pain he felt in them, for the pain in being awake every moment away from Erik was harder than he thought it would ever be. Get up he did though after having to remind himself that he didn't love the phantom.

Instead of having to place that happy façade on his face over and over again, he decided to fill his days with activities he could perform at his own home. He sought the employment of a fencing master in order to become stronger in the art. His tussles with the phantom while he had vied for Christine's heart only proved to him that he needed to improve more in the area of self defense, and the defense of his loved ones. That and the constant attack and defense motions kept his mind clear of anything else.

He also decided to pick up the violin once again. Christine's father had tutored him as a child, and though he was sorely out of practice, it was slowly returning to him. Not only were his nights filled with thoughts of music, but his days were haunted by tunes he could feel thrumming through him more than hear it. Some internal song was trying to escape and he could no longer fight the urge to play. Not realizing how similar to the phantom he was beginning to act, Raoul would lock himself in his study and play on his violin for hours on end.

The servants found the Vicomte to be acting rather unusual, but most of the rich were unconventional so they excused his behavior. They had to remind him to eat his meals sometimes, but they were rather glad to have a wealthy patron who was eccentric in a minor matter such as music. Besides, the music that filled the de Chagny estate was beautiful if not haunting. The Vicomte told his staff to not allow anyone entrance, and if asked to say he had left Paris.

The only individuals the Vicomte had contact with outside of his own staff were Andre and Firmin. All business meetings were held at his household and the Vicomte had been surprised at how smoothly everything was going.

He kept his continued patronage of the opera house a secret to everyone but the managers. He even had the managers swear to not tell anyone and in the process, to find a lesser patron to parade as the main contributor. He went so far as to tell them to not mention his name ever again, and if asked that he had left with his family. He did not mind fading into the background. They, of course, agreed since most of the money was obtained from Raoul himself so he could do as he pleased. He decided to relinquish Box 3, but instead obtain a different box seat so that he would remain relatively unnoticed.

Said patron, however was not being completely honest with the managers. In their last meeting together, they had inquired about the phantom of the opera and if he had heard anything from or about the ghost. They had heard stories that Raoul had gone back to kill the monster himself and did not dare ask about it until now when everything was going so well. They had not wanted to jinx any good luck. Raoul had flinched at the mere mention of Erik, but luckily, it went unnoticed or rather the managers thought it an understandable reaction. Feigning ignorance, the blonde brushed their ideas aside as though they were ludicrous. He may not have killed the phantom, but he assured them that someone must have. Nothing was occurring at the opera house so far.

In order to steer them away from the topic of the phantom, he had brought up the masquerade that had been in the making. With this topic came the topic that Raoul should visit the opera house before the masquerade in order to see what his money had been put to rebuild. He denied adamantly saying he would like to be just as surprised as everyone else was. Seeing the validity of the statement, they let him do as he pleased.

The managers spoke praises of the new play and how wonderfully Christine was in it. That was another stab in his heart. It was the reason he left Erik. He would never be able to compete with opera and Christine. He lost that battle once already. Christine did love the phantom, or at least believed she did. She would go after the phantom now that she was unattached, now that she did not know Raoul was still within the city. He had made certain of that sending her a letter stating the same fact.

Unfortunately for Raoul, he could not avoid the opera house forever. So there, in cognito, he stood nervously just outside of the entryway of the famous and now rather infamous opera house dressed in a neatly pressed tux with a black cape to cover his ponytail, black mask that covered the top half of his face, and a top hat which covered his blond hair.

o.o.o.o.o

Erik had been surprised when a few days after he felt his world collapse that there were intruders in his opera house. They had been making enough noise for him to hear them from his lair.

He, however, did not have the energy or desire to investigate until he heard the hammers begin to fall. Swiftly he raced to the surface and spied from the shadows the many workers that filled the building. He could not believe it. Someone had decided to rebuild.

He could feel his throat tighten at the thought of having a different patron besides the blonde Vicomte. Somewhere deep inside he hoped that Raoul _was_ the patron, but it was just as likely that he had left Paris. He had hoped for his happy ending. He hoped and dreamt of it every night. But, every morning he would remind himself that he would destroy anything he ever loved. Yet, he was constantly plagued with thoughts of blonde hair, bright eyes, and the feel of a body pressed tightly against his own. His eyes burned from the emotion, so he returned to his home beneath the floor. Those workers were completely unaware of the potential danger they were in, but knowing he would be unable to survive without the opera house above, the phantom would let them work unscathed.

Sometimes Erik stayed below the construction site, listening intently to the sounds above, but he would often spend most of his days overseeing the construction and insuring that no one found a passage they should not find. As a contingency plan, he locked all the entrances save for the ones that he alone could find and reach.

He would come up with hundreds of tricks to play on those workers, but he no longer felt the desire to act on the urges. He would have spent his time below ground to play his organ, but that had been destroyed by the mob. He would sometimes pick up his violin to play, but something felt wrong whenever he tried to play. As if his inspiration was no longer obtainable, the melodies he played were all dark and morose and would remind him of Raoul though he did not understand why.

He found himself daydreaming more than once of what he could have done differently to have kept the Vicomte, but he had to reprimand himself for doing so afterwards. So more often than not, he would find himself upstairs roaming the shadows staring blankly as the opera house was rebuilt back to the high standards and grandeur of its previous glory.

He was only snapped out of his trance one day when Andre and Firmin entered the opera house speaking loudly and gesturing wildly at the new improvements. They began to speak of calling everyone back, and the phantom was mildly surprised to hear that Christine would be returning to the Opera Populaire. He wasn't sure what he felt toward that new development. He thought he had loved her at one time, but that unexpectedly did not last long because of her suitor.

Erik was about to introduce himself to the two but at the mention of a masquerade he halted. After hearing the specifics of the event, Erik knew that his grand entrance would come in time. It was as if the two were inviting him to the whole event.

A flicker of the old Phantom of the Opera came back. He would create mayhem on that given day. He would no longer think of a certain blonde. He would bide his time and make yet another grand entrance to the entire opera population. With a smirk, he left the shadows to go downstairs to begin a plan that was quickly forming in his mind.

His plan already set, he would go upstairs to watch the rehearsals. Although not everything met up with his standards, he allowed them this one moment of freedom before he would take control back after the masquerade.

Madame Giry had tried to contact him a couple times, but he decided it prudent to wait until after the fiasco he planned to occur at the masquerade before contacting her. He did want to ask her to try and obtain an organ for him though he did not know how she could do so discretely. He would worry about that later.

Christine had also tried to contact him. His alarms had gone off numerous times because she had been trying to open the mirror in her room that led to his lair. He was glad that he had locked most of the entrances. Too many people now knew how to enter his lair so those entrances had to be permanently sealed. It did not take Erik much time to build a wall behind namely Christine's mirror because he knew she would be too nosy to not try anything. He refused to speak with her either until after the masquerade if he ever spoke to her at all.

Said event was about to begin and he recalled the last one he had been to. That had been most exciting. He would be sure to let the performers know that he was still around. He had planned to let the opera go on, but as it continued he would enjoy seeing how they would react to falling scenery missing singers and chorus girls. It would all be too easy. He missed Carlota that one time but he would not miss again if he had his way. No one on stage would be safe from him. And all in front of a sold out audience, it would be most enjoyable.

o.o.o.o.o

Christine cautiously looked around her old room. Her eyes lingered longest at the mirror. The phantom could be watching her this very instant and she would be none the wiser.

She called his name out softly, "Angel."

Hearing nothing move behind the mirror she hoped that he would not be watching her, so placing her hands tentatively against the mirror she tried to feel for a latch that would open it. Finding none, she was beginning to become irritated. She wanted to see her angel. She was certain that he was still alive. Raoul did not say anything about killing him and she was certain that her angel could not have been killed by a mindless mob.

Raoul had not only broken off their engagement, he had left town. She was now free to pursue her real love, the phantom of the opera. He was her angel and she wanted him back now. She desired to hear his voice and to continue her tutelage.

She had been cast in one of the major parts but Carlota had still taken precedence over her.

She began to bang on the mirror, and yet nothing occurred, frustrated she placed her belongings away. She was confused as to why he was not answering her. The thought occurred to her that he believed them still to be engaged and was enraged. He must be angry with her still for going away with Raoul. Why else would he lock the passage in the mirror? Why else would he not answer her call like he had done every time before Raoul had ever come into the picture? She had chosen Raoul. She had denied the Phantom's love. He would not be pleased with her at all. With that frightening thought, she hoped that he had not heard her call or the banging on the mirror.

After the first few weeks of rehearsals, she asked to be moved to another room because it was beginning to work on her nerves that she was uncertain if the phantom was watching her. The silence was frightening considering that he could enter her room and kill her in her sleep.

After consulting the managers, they decided to move her to another room that was quite far from her old one. They would keep that one hallway empty for now. No one wanted to have a room near that one since they all had heard the stories of how the phantom entered the room and kidnapped Christine. They had enough room to place all of the staff on a separate floor so instead, they began to use that corridor for storing props and reusable backdrops. No one wanted to be near the area.

The phantom was rather amused when he saw Christine move to another room in which he had an easier entrance. The irony of the situation was enough to brighten up his usual somber mood considerably. It would be fun to play with Christine's mind. Erik found that he no longer had any interest in Christine at all. She had used him and betrayed him time and time again. She would pay for it.

Christine was finally at ease in her new room, and the rehearsals were going so well. She began to believe that the mob may have been able to kill the phantom. At least then, she figured, he couldn't be mad at her for choosing Raoul.

Time had passed quickly as she found herself already putting on her costume for the masquerade. At the last masquerade, she had been engaged with Raoul with another suitor. In this one, both men she had loved were gone.

A knock at the door signaled her that Meg was waiting for her to finish. Meg had been a great help during these past few weeks and it was fun to have her back to gossip and tell stories with.

She spared one last glance at the mirror before heading out for the masquerade.

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Hahaha, quasi cliff hanger (not really since that was more of a recap than anything, but whatever).

I would do that whole I need five reviews before I put the next chapter up, but I don't know how well that would work. You never know, the next chapter could never go up. Heck I only got three reviews for the last 4 chapters. You really may never get the good part.

But... just to see, _five reviews_ before the next chapter goes up. Which is actually already the masquerade since I jumped numerous months to get straight to the drama. Christine's back of course. She's way OOC, way. But that's just a warning. That's just how the galleta crumbles, ne?

Whatever will happen?


	6. Misconceptions

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash fic.

Warning(s): homosexual content, slash!

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: Okay, Christine is way OOC in this… WAY (can't really emphasize it enough). It helps the plot go forward though sorta (that and I don't really like writing her). So if that's any consolation, but you could always blame it on the alcohol though.

Umm, yeah, screw the five reviews crap-ola stuff, I'll just post weekly or something like that. Thanks for those who did review. I'll work better on my writing, but we'll just have to see what happens with that. As for the rating, well, I was figuring for the future chapters that will probably have something that's gonna definitely be M, but I guess I should just lower the rating since nothing's happened so far, but eh. Err on the side of caution.

o.o.o.o

Pass Time : Misconceptions o-

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last Time:

Basically everyone was getting ready for the masquerade. Raoul's in cognito. Erik's planning to create some general mayhem. Christine thinks both Erik and Raoul are gone. Oh, surprises!

o.o.o.o

-.-

Raoul had wanted to blend in with the crowd, and by the way everyone brushed his shoulders since he stood immobile in front of the entrance of the opera house, he had succeeded. A large portion of the elite had turned up for the masquerade and he worried over the events that would occur on this night. He feared for them all.

He looked rather plain compared to all the elite. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Most of the very wealthy and the whole cast of the opera were dressed quite elaborately. But looking around, he saw others like himself who had chosen to wear a simple mask and their dress clothing. He just looked less of the wealthiest bachelor than he really was, but that was what he was hoping to achieve.

The hallways were filled with the wealthy mingling, and the upbeat music that filled the whole area was mesmerizing, pulling everyone deeper into the building.

He entered slowly, half expecting to be greeted by the phantom himself, but he shrugged his unease aside. No use letting his imagination play tricks on him. The phantom could be dead or he could be waiting for the right moment to show himself. Unfortunately, the managers had provided the best vehicle for a grand entrance, a masquerade. Raoul could almost swear they wanted something bad to happen – bad or very dramatic.

Barely a few feet from entering the building, while looking around at the decorations, the colorful costumes, and the many partners dancing wildly, he spotted Christine and Meg flirting with who looked more like fans than fellow performers. Raoul snorted, it looked like Christine had gotten over both her infatuations. He quickly hid behind a column near the wall when Christine had started to scan the room. He was certain she would not be able to notice him apart from everyone else, but he wanted to be sure.

He also saw Andre and Firmin in costume. They were nearby and given the opportunity, they would recognize him. He would have to keep in mind to avoid them as well.

Leaning further into the shadows that the column provided, he wondered why he decided to come. He wondered why he had even decided to stay in Paris, but the sudden tightening in his chest told him why and also told him that same reason was somewhere nearby and getting closer.

o.o.o.o.o

Erik decided to join the festivities upstairs. No need to miss the masquerade. It was an event specifically designed for people like him. He had a mask to hide behind everyday that set him apart from society and today he would don a different mask and fit in perfectly. The costume he wore was not the Red Death apparel as before but rather, he decided to go something in the complete opposite, Adonis – a piece of irony to add to the night that he would dress as the stunningly handsome man. The white tunic placed over tight white pants, fit his body nicely revealing the muscles beneath. The mask he wore covered most of his face, a golden wreath adorning his head while he painted what was still revealed in a glittery gold. He did look the part, almost glimpsing a life that would've been his had he been born without the deformity.

It was not difficult to slip in unnoticed amongst the throng of people in the opera house. He watched against the wall as the rich talked and drank their fill. Merriment was abound and though he could be present, he was still nothing but an observer to it all. However, Adonis indeed he was, many were staring at the handsome stranger that had appeared at the gala. Many eyes had to look twice. Erik felt unease with the prying eyes, but did his best to ignore them. Given the chance, those people would be staring at him in a less kind manner with less kind intentions.

Erik noticed all the people absentmindedly while searching the crowd. He watched as Christine showed her true colors once more and flirted with some strangers. He stared in disgust. She looked up and seeing his eyes on her, she gave him a coy smile. He ignored the look for he knew she did not realize who he was. He scanned the room more. He knew he was looking for someone, but he didn't want to admit it to himself. He walked slowly towards the entrance of the opera house; he would have a better view from there.

Surely the blonde would be easy to spot even in this crowd. Not many people had hair that shone so radiantly and had a cheery demeanor to match.

He walked closer to the entrance. He felt his chest tighten, and he knew for certain the blonde Vicomte was nearby. He looked at the strangers around him, but none of them were the Vicomte. Nonchalantly, he leaned against a column by the wall and watched as people entered the building. He had not seen Raoul anywhere inside the building so he had to still be outside. He must be just exiting his carriage and talking with some people, Erik reasoned. It hurt him to be so close to the object of his desires and not be able to see him or touch him.

Erik had controlled himself and not visited the Vicomte. It would have been just a repeat of the last time. He would not become involved with the Vicomte, but he wanted to be near him, wanted to see him, and hear him talk. It didn't matter if he couldn't love him outright, but Erik would give almost everything to just have a little part of Raoul's day as his own. It didn't matter if it hurt to be so near and yet so untouchable, unreachable. It was enough just to be able to feel his presence.

He had learned in his solitude that he could no longer handle it. He could no longer stand the empty bed when he had experienced otherwise. He could remember the feel of the boy's body pressed against his own and it was maddening. Raoul, he reminded himself, would be over him. Erik had to remind himself that the last them they had met, the Vicomte had decided that he didn't love him. It could just be his imagination that he felt Raoul near, but he could swear.

The phantom was becoming impatient. Raoul still hadn't entered, and those managers who were circulating were getting closer to him.

Had the phantom bothered to look behind the column which he stood before, he would have seen the object of his affections. Raoul bent over, trying to catch his breath. It was becoming harder and harder to breathe. He had seen Erik walk over his way and the closer he walked, the more difficult to breathe. He felt his vision blur a bit. Having Erik just an arm's length away was so painful, he needed to get away.

Moving from the shadows, he didn't bother to hide his presence as he practically ran out of the building.

Erik was surprised when he saw someone move from behind the column, but feeling the presence in his heart fade a bit, he knew that it had been Raoul. He cursed himself for not realizing it, but when he attempted to follow him outside, the managers intercepted him.

"Good evening, Monsieur," Andre began.

Erik, stopped mid-stride and as politely as he could, making his voice a little deeper, he answered, "Good evening. You are the managers are you not?" He spared a glance outside, but figuring Raoul would return eventually since he had not left already, he decided to humour the managers since they had not recognized him.

"Yes, we are," Firmin answered, "Are you enjoying the masquerade?"

"Indeed, I am," Erik realized he could obtain information from these two, "May I inquire how you obtained funds to rebuild? I had heard that there was a fire. Was not your patron a Vicomte of some sort?"

Andre answered, "Oh, yes. Well, the Vicomte..."

"...has left unfortunately. We have a new patron though. We could introduce you, if you desire."

"No, no," the phantom responded, "that is odd, I had heard that the Vicomte was to marry your star. Has Miss Daae left as well?"

"The engagement was broken off. In fact, the Vicomte de Chagny sent her a letter stating that he had left." Andre stopped speaking when Firmin elbowed him whispering, "You speak entirely too much, Andre."

"Sorry, Monsieur. We must be moving on to other guests," Firmin said aloud.

Erik smiled charmingly, "Of course."

Watching the managers leave, he was very pleased at this new discovery. He was the only one besides the managers who knew that Raoul was still present. That meant that his absence would be generally unnoticed. He frowned. He wasn't supposed to be kidnapping Raoul or even thinking about doing so. In fact, he was supposed to be avoiding him or by most, simply watching him. He couldn't do something so drastic, but he knew that he would have to search him out.

Raoul was hiding from the phantom. He knew that he couldn't stay outside forever, but he was loathe at the idea of returning home. He spent so much time there that he needed to see this opera. He needed to feel this pain that was so different from the one he felt when alone. Raoul watched blankly as more people arrived in carriages. He did not bother worrying about whether the phantom would follow him outside. He believed that the phantom truly hated him. There was no point in hiding from someone who wasn't looking for you, but he just wanted to avoid a confrontation. It would hurt more to hear insults come from that mouth.

He decided that it was time for him to face whatever was coming to him. He walked slowly towards the entrance.

Erik was intercepted once again on his way out the doors, by Christine this time. It was odd. He could have sworn that she was across the room last time he saw her. She was quick indeed.

"Good evening, Monsieur," Christine tilted her head slightly standing closer than was appropriate.

She smelled of alcohol, and Erik took a step back, "Good evening, Mademoiselle. I see that you are having a rather good one."

He was certain that she would recognize his voice, no matter how much deeper he forced it, but she just swayed slightly on her feet, trying to keep eye contact.

Christine smiled at the insult, "I do so like your costume. Are you a Greek god?" She placed her hand on his chest.

Placing his hand on hers to remove it, Erik turned away from the smell of alcohol on her breath. It was then that he had his first sight of the Vicomte since the incident. Even with the mask and the hat, he could tell it was Raoul. He could just sense it, but seeing the look on his face was enough to tell him what a compromising position he must look to be in. The phantom threw Christine's hand off him as though it burned, but Raoul had already walked passed them without a second look.

"No, merely human," Erik stated gruffly, moving away from her.

Meg grabbed her arm and pulled her away from him, "Sorry good sir, she's had a little too much spirit."

Erik didn't bother to answer as he searched the crowd desperately for any sign of the Vicomte. He had lost him in the crowd. He cursed silently at his misfortune. It was just his type of luck to be caught in such a position. It shouldn't matter that the Vicomte looked hurt at the sight, or if anything, he should be happy that the Vicomte looked stricken. It meant that Erik still had a chance. Raoul still had some consideration for him even after he had insulted him in their last meeting.

He looked around once more before giving up. Hopefully, he would be able to find him during the opera.

o.o.o.o.o

Raoul couldn't believe he was so stupid. Of course, the phantom would be with Christine. That was the reason he left. He just forgot it, forgot that he shouldn't care about what the phantom does because he was never truly his to begin with. He had no feelings towards the man, at least that's the mantra that ran through his mind.

Raoul walked quickly to his box. The phantom would not find him for, much like the phantom he would be able to hide in the shadows of the box seat he occupied. So, there he sat staring at the empty stage and even emptier audience seats waiting for the opera to begin.

Raoul kept having to remind himself that he hated the phantom and that the phantom hated him. It hurt to just think of it, but Raoul believed it would preserve his heart from more pain.

o.o.o.o.o

Meg quickly dragged Christine away from the stranger.

In the back, Meg grabbed a glass of water and forced Christine to drink it. She knew that she shouldn't have let Christine have those couple of drinks, but she insisted and Meg couldn't quite say no. Christine had been having problems with her nerves since her return to the opera house, and it seemed like a good idea. Now, though, Meg was uncertain if Christine would be able to perform.

"Meg?" Christine asked, groaning a bit.

"Yes, Christine?" Meg helped her sit down.

"My head aches."

Meg shook her head, "That's what happens when you drink. Let us hope you will be better by the time the opera is to start."

"Mm-hm," Christine mumbled.

At that moment, a stage hand walked their way and told them to get ready.

The opera would start soon.

o.o.o.o.o

Erik stood against the wall again. He had not seen Raoul, but he was certain he had seen enough of the elite dancing to last him a lifetime. He was surprised at the gall some of the women had to ask him for a dance. He rejected each one and decided to leave the party to find the Vicomte. If he was not in the ball, then he would have to be in the theatre.

Unfortunately, it was also decided at that time that the opera would be starting soon. The managers made an announcement for everyone to find their seats.

Leaving discretely from the mass, Erik decided to take the passageways to get to Box 3, Raoul's old box seat.

Upon arrival, the phantom was disappointed to find it empty, and it was then that he realized, Raoul would probably not want the same seat if he was to be out of town. He despaired at the thought of having to look through the hundreds of people present to find him. Leaving Box 3 towards his own seat, he sat in the shadows thinking of what his next step should be. Forgetting all about his plan of creating havoc and chaos, he decided to wait until the opera started to look for the Vicomte because then he would be more certain that Raoul would be present.

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Yeah, the costume of the phantom was so from the movie, but yeah, it was just an interesting thought and yeah, it was cuz I was watching the movie while I wrote.

grin. I made Christine drunk. And it would seem when Christine's drunk, she's flirtatious.

Oh, yeah. Five more reviews to put up the next chapter. Blah. Yeah, that's not really in effect, but hey, I can have a goal, right?

Okay, have a nice day!


	7. Just an Accident

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash fic.

Warning(s): homosexual content, slash!

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: Okay, Christine is way OOC in this… WAY. It helps the plot go forward though. So if that's any consolation, but you could always blame it on the alcohol though.

Thanks for all the people who reviewed (I reached my five review quota… I'm excited! Too bad my life just got busier, so I'd appreciate reviews, but I don't think I can update unless it's the weekend)

Darklady5289 – thanks for the constant reviews, it's great help!

Tay-kun – thanks for the advice, I'll work on my writing and such.

NightmareFX – there seems to be a common theme of hating Christine… I personally didn't like the movie cuz it annoyed me, but since I love POTO in general I own it.

Inkie pinkie – thanks for finding me again and leaving a review

Giggles – thanks for the compliments, I'm working on posting up a new chapter!

Oh… yeah, I got my first flame: it made me laugh, maybe I should've warned the reader it was slash in the summary, oh wait, I did… lame-o. Thanks for leaving a review anyway, angelorphantom.

o.o.o.o

Pass Time : Just an Accident o-

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last Time: Raoul's waiting in his Box for the opera to begin. Phantom's waiting in Box 5 since he hasn't found Raoul yet. Christine's drunk and trying to get better with the help of Meg.

o.o.o.o

-.-

Raoul sighed. He was starting to regret this whole situation. It was his fault though. If he hadn't gone back to the phantom, then maybe he could have married Christine. He doubted that would have happened, but then maybe he could've let the phantom have her. They were still very much in love, he thought bitterly.

He removed his hat and mask now that he was sure everyone was seated and no one would be able to see him if he remained in the shadows of his box. He removed the ribbon that held his hair so that he could run a shaky hand through it. He was still nervous. Now that he saw the phantom with his own eyes, he expected the worse to occur in the opera. It would be un-phantomlike to not do something dramatic, and he dreaded the fact that the managers would be so careless and stupid.

Raoul had a feeling that he would see Erik again before this night was done.

o.o.o.o

Finally, the crowd was seated in the theatre, and Erik watched discretely from his box at everyone entering, trying to find the Vicomte. He stared uncertainly down at the ground seats. The Vicomte would not seat himself there. He may be noticed by one of the others. 'So where would he sit?' Erik thought to himself. He would have to sit in one of the box seats, away from everyone else while still being able to see the opera.

There were box seats against all three walls, with more levels than Erik wanted to think about. It would take practically the whole opera before he found the Vicomte if he started in the wrong place.

With a sigh, he decided to start from the closest box to the stage and work his way back. So, systematically he went through each, but even passed the fifteenth box he checked, there was still no sign of Raoul. He barely saw or heard anything that occurred in the play, choosing to ignore everything in his search for the Vicomte.

Shaking his head at his own selfish stupidity, he didn't bother to think of what he would do once he found him. He had to first find Raoul.

o.o.o.o

The opera had started and Christine was still a bit unsteady on her feet. Madame Giry had given her a talking to which sobered her up considerably, but not completely. Christine had been forbidden to leave her room for anything other than rehearsals and meals, and Madame Giry had left the threat open if Christine disobeyed her. All she really knew was that she wanted to live to see the end of the opera and that Madame Giry was quite frightening when angered. She would not touch another alcoholic beverage again and she would not want to see the punishment Meg's mother would create for her if she disobeyed her orders.

After the first half of the opera which had gone off without a hitch, Christine was taking a break. She had almost stumbled twice, but managed to recover. She hoped no one saw, but from the looks of Madame Giry's stares and Meg's sympathetic glances, she knew she was caught. Offstage, Christine leaned heavily against a railing, at least what she thought was a railing until it moved and a sandbag counterweight suddenly came crashing onto the stage, centimeters from where Carlotta stood.

Looking guiltily around, Christine noticed no one had seen her do it, so she walked away pretending to be as shocked as everyone else that something like that could have occurred. She joined a group of the chorus girls and shared in the gossip that it must have been the ghost of the phantom of the opera.

o-

Raoul saw the sandbag fall and stood up to see if he could catch a glimpse of the ghost. Leaning forward over the railing, he searched the stage but found nothing. He so desperately wanted to see Erik again even if it was for a moment, and at least from this distance he could watch him unnoticed. It was very unlike his style to drop a sandbag, scenery maybe, but a sandbag? There was hardly anything dramatic about a sandbag falling. Anyone could have accidentally hit the rope and untangled it.

Still, Raoul could hope to catch a glimpse of the phantom. This time he would surely not see Christine with him.

o-

A gasp from the crowd finally caught Erik's attention, and as he saw the bag hit the floor, from the corner of his eye, he saw familiar blonde hair fall around an even more familiar face. His head snapped in the direction where he saw the blonde. Noting the box number, he swiftly ran through his passages to reach him.

Realizing too late that he could easily be seen, Raoul practically jumped back, tripping over his seat. Standing up shakily, he slowly took a step backwards to lean against the wall and back into the shadows.

However, though he leaned on something solid, it was not the wall.

o.o.o

Erik reached the outside of Raoul's box in no time. He silently entered, and stood absolutely still when he realized that he didn't know what he was going to do now that he had the Vicomte in his sight.

He was caught off guard when Raoul jumped backwards and fell on the floor. He had wanted to catch him, but was too hesitant to reveal his presence. Erik would've been content to stay in the shadows and just watch. Raoul, on the other hand, had other plans as he backed right into him.

Erik could think of nothing else to do but wrap his arms around the blonde. His heart virtually sang at the contact. The blonde fit perfectly in his embrace.

When Raoul started to struggle though, he reacted instinctively. The phantom grabbed the Vicomte's shoulders and flipped their positions, pinning Raoul between the wall and Erik's body.

Raoul pressed his face into the cool wall. He didn't know why he began to struggle because he knew who it was that had wrapped their arms around him. Maybe that was the reason though. He had felt so warm in his embrace, but the image of Erik holding Christine's hand over his heart flashed in his mind and it was too much. He didn't want this. He didn't want to be some replacement, the fallback love, the rebound. The phantom was probably just doing it as some sort of payback for causing him so much trouble. Raoul had been the reason Erik hadn't gotten Christine in the first place. He probably held a grudge. He was just being the vengeful phantom the whole opera knew.

Raoul couldn't stand the unbearable heat he felt whenever Erik was so close. He bit his lip and tried to remember that Erik was only playing with him. His body wouldn't listen to him though, he blushed hotly when he realized that he was getting aroused because of the way Erik kept pressing against his back so that they were flush together. He struggled against the phantom's hold, but that only made Erik lean harder against him. It was only making things worse for Raoul. He closed his eyes from the sweet torture and hoped that Erik would leave now that he had humiliated him. He was certain the phantom had realized his problem.

Raoul's eyes opened when Erik flipped him around so that their faces were mere millimeters away from each other. He could feel the phantom's breath on his face and he turned his head so that he wouldn't have to look into his eyes. He couldn't stifle the groan when Erik's body once again found its place on his.

In fact, Erik _hadn't_ noticed Raoul's arousal, but he had noticed the heat radiating off him and the blush that crept down his neck. Wanting to see his face, it wasn't until he flipped him and pinned him against the wall again did he notice. Had Raoul been watching, he would have seen Erik's eyes darken a few shades as lust filled his every thought. The moan that escaped the blonde's lips only fueled the liquid desire Erik felt flowing through his veins.

He wanted this boy who was trapped between him and his opera house, wanted him more than anything he'd ever wanted his entire life. His body was responding to the blonde's heat and he grasped Raoul's chin to make him face him. He ground his hips against the Vicomte, ripping another groan from the blonde's mouth. That sound was music to Erik's ears. Everything else faded into the background when he heard that sound come from Raoul.

Raoul couldn't stand it. Why was Erik doing this? He had Christine. Why did he have to torture him so?

He wanted to give into the sensations yet that image stayed with him. He saw them together, Christine and Erik. He even began to picture Christine kissing him in the phantom's lair from what seemed so long ago.

"No," he mumbled. His mouth still trapped in the phantom's hand.

In his lust-filled haze, Erik failed to hear him.

Moving his face closer, Erik finally did what he had wanted to do since before their separation. He pressed his lips against the blonde's. Raoul couldn't help but respond immediately. To feel those smooth lips against his own, the gentle pressure contrasting with the crushing weight he felt everywhere else. It surprised him at how achingly sweet the kiss was. Silent rivulets of tears slid down Raoul's face.

The moment was pure perfection. It was everything and nothing at the same time. It was everything Raoul had ever thought their first kiss would be: sweet, tender, full of emotion, but it meant nothing to Erik and nothing would change. He had everything in his grasp and could do nothing to keep it. The phantom would still return to Christine and Raoul would return to his empty estate.

Pulling back, Erik finally took a closer look at Raoul. He was pleased with himself as he took in the flushed expression and reddened lips. However, he also noticed the tears that had begun to fall freely and the choking breaths the blonde had to take. Raoul would not look him in the eyes and he hated to see the wounded expression on his face. He hated himself for being the one that caused the expression. He suddenly remembered a similar expression he had caused Raoul earlier. Moving to wipe the tears from his face, Erik's hand faltered when Raoul flinched.

"Stop," he whispered, placing his hands on Erik's shoulders trying to push him away. Erik didn't budge. He had what he wanted in his grasp. He could just take it. How could he let it get away?

"Please," Raoul had to speak between shallow breaths, "just go back to Christine." He knew he was hyperventilating and should calm down but it was just too much for him. It was too much too soon and nothing would last. He knew that he wanted these moments. He wanted these moments to help him survive through the many others he would have alone, but he was wrong. The Vicomte thought he could take it. He thought he could know Erik didn't love him and still be okay with just stolen moments. He thought he could just see him sporadically and be appeased. He was wrong.

It felt like he was being torn in half and he didn't even know if he wanted to live anymore.

"Leave me alone," Raoul closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around his chest as if to protect his heart.

Erik released him in shock.

What was he doing? Sparing one last glance at the Vicomte, Erik fled. He couldn't stand to see what he had done.

Still leaning against the wall, Raoul slid down and wrapping his arms around his legs, began to rock slowly back and forth. He couldn't think of anything else but their kiss. Their first kiss. How could something so perfect be so wrong at the same time?

A badly sung note from Carlotta startled Raoul out of his musings. He realized he was still at the opera house and the opera had not yet ended. That was odd, because to Raoul it felt like an eternity since Erik had kissed him and left.

He slowly stood up, his legs hurting from his position on the floor. Without bothering to wait until the opera ended, he left the Opera Populaire.

Everything was a blur, finding a carriage and the ride home. He felt so lost. He could convince himself that it never happened. The phantom would not do something like that. He would not enter his box and kiss him. His mind convinced him that he had just accidentally fallen asleep in the middle of the opera and dreamt the whole thing. It was more plausible than what had actually happened. It was all a dream.

He didn't remember entering the house but when he came to, he was in his bedroom, already in his night clothes, staring in the mirror.

So it wasn't a dream, he thought absently, his hand reaching up towards his cheek. A faint smile appeared as he traced his lips remembering exactly how it felt to kiss Erik. His mind did not register the fact that he had felt such heart-rending pain when it had occurred. He could block out everything but the good parts. He would deal with the implications of the action later. For now though, he was content to remember the feel of Erik against him in their first kiss.

The gold glitter that had rubbed off on Raoul's face was proof enough that it had occurred.

o.o.o.o

Erik had fled. He had fled to his lair. He hadn't known what to do and still didn't.

He had taken advantage of the boy and possibly ruined any chance he had of winning his heart. For nothing but a stolen kiss. He would have continued his tirade, but the thought of the kiss was enough to bring a smile to his face. Raoul had responded. Responded immediately to his touch, his warmth, and his lips.

It was enough to convince him to damn all other factors aside and chase after the Vicomte. He no longer cared if it would never work out in the end.

He had never wanted nor needed anyone as much as he had needed Raoul at that moment. Even now, he believed that his heart only beat for the Vicomte, only beat so that he could once again lay eyes on his radiance. He scoffed as soon as the idea came to mind. He was becoming soft, with thoughts like that; he would have to make sure Raoul wouldn't continue to be a bad influence when they finally got together.

He smiled at the idea of them finally being together. He was convinced by the kiss that they belonged together. It was undeniable that fate had decided to bring them together. Erik had always hated fate. Fate had given his face. It had given him Christine only to have her betray him. Fate had given him Raoul under the worse circumstances. However, fate had still given him Raoul, and he was not sure if Raoul could ever love him again. He would have to try though. Erik would let everything else go if it meant he could have the blonde.

It was only then that he realized he had forgotten to carry out his plan to create chaos. He had been so consumed with finding Raoul that he let an opportune moment slip by. Of course, there was that sandbag incident that would probably get blamed on him, but still it was a shame to have let the masquerade go unhindered.

Erik rose from his position by the broken organ to write the managers a note. He would leave it on their desk tomorrow, asking for the usual twenty thousand francs. He would need to save some money to buy a new organ. Its absence was quite conspicuous, and the phantom found himself wishing he had the organ to play for he often found his thoughts continually drifting towards a certain blonde.

It always came back to Raoul nowadays.

Raoul always brought a certain self-loathing out in him. It was none of his doing, but every time he and Raoul came together, Erik would do something to hurt the blonde. In the process, he would hate himself for having done so.

At this moment, he did hate himself. He hated his face. He hated the twisted way fate had brought them together.

He also hated Christine. Christine was the one that put that silly idea that they were back together in the blonde's head. He considered it odd that Raoul would immediately know who he was with the mask and the costume and Christine couldn't tell even though she was standing closer and somewhat holding a conversation with him. Christine would have to be taken out of the picture or else Raoul would always think there was something between them.

Erik was actually more worried that something might happen between Raoul and Christine. Raoul would realize his mistake and go running back to her. What if he couldn't trust the Vicomte?

Erik quickly scanned the letter he had written making sure everything was in order: the managers would not speak of his presence to anyone else unless they wanted them to worry unnecessarily since he would leave them alone for now if they could prove to him that they could run the opera house. As long as everything was in order, he would not interfere, let his existence be known or cause any problems. However, he still insisted that they pay his salary lest they desire some misfortunate accident to befall the opera house and their performers. Sealing the letter with his personal crest, his thoughts wandered back to Raoul.

He would just have to hope that fate would not play the same trick on him twice. He hoped love would last this time or else both he and Raoul would be hurt.

It was a vicious cycle he resolved to remedy. He would stop hurting Raoul. If anything, Erik would do his best to shelter the Vicomte from anything that would cause him harm.

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Okay, totally OOC, but you'll have to forgive me.

I also realize that the tone of this fic is somewhat different from that of its predecessors; you'll have to forgive me for that too.

Raoul's a little wussy right now, but wouldn't you have an emotional breakdown with the way they keep going back and forth?

So, ummm, five reviews for the next installment. Thanks to all those who reviewed so far. I appreciate it:o)


	8. To Take What You Want: An Interlude

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash fic.

Warning(s): homosexual content, slash!

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: Umm, yeah, thanks for the reviews again! I appreciate it a lot.

o.o.o.o

Pass Time : To Take What You Want: An Interlude o-

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last Time: Erik & Raoul share their first kiss. Raoul thinks Erik's only doing it for revenge since Christine was hitting on Erik. Erik's dead set on having Raoul as his.

Now the fun begins right?

o.o.o.o

-.-

Raoul could not stand the heat, sometime in the night he had already kicked off his bed sheets. Something had woken him up besides the heat though. Pulling his shirt over his head, Raoul threw the offending article of clothing on the floor. He would worry about it later. It was entirely too hot in his bedroom.

He could swear that he had been having a very good dream, something about Erik and a kiss. The thoughts of it were enough to bring back Raoul's previous problem at the time.

He pushed those thoughts aside. He wasn't a very light sleeper, but he could have sworn he heard something moving by his balcony. The Vicomte looked towards the doors and was grateful that they were open. It was helping him cool down a bit.

The full moon allowed ample light for him to scan the room for something out of place. He looked towards the balcony doors again in confusion. He had not had the foresight to leave it open earlier. In fact, he explicitly remembered closing and locking the doors because he had felt chilly when preparing for bed.

Raoul looked towards his bedroom door. It was locked as well. One of his servants couldn't have opened the balcony doors.

Sliding his legs over the side of the bed, he barely had time to register the movement before he felt the air rush from his lungs as his back hit the bed. His vision swan as he felt a warm body pressing him down on the bed, immobilizing him.

Raoul shook his head to clear his mind and his sight.

"Wh-what?" he stuttered. Trying to move his hand to settle the movement in his mind, he realized that they were being held down as well by a firm grip.

A warm breath murmured by his ear, "I believe the better question would be who."

The Vicomte knew that voice anywhere and moaned at the intimate position they were in.

Finally, his vision cleared enough to see the silhouette of Erik who was mere inches from his face.

"You didn't think one kiss was enough, did you?" Raoul was certain he could see the smirk on the phantom's face even though it was too dark to really be seen. Erik ground his hips against Raoul's to punctuate his point.

The movement ripped another moan from the Vicomte's throat.

He could swear that he heard Erik purr.

It was then that the phantom grabbed both of Raoul's hands and held it above his head. Only needing one hand to do so, he shifted the rest of Raoul's body so that his legs were not over the edge of the bed anymore.

Erik kissed a trail down the neck of the blonde. At random moments, he would lightly blow until he had the Vicomte shivering under the attention.

"I don't think," Raoul had to struggle to keep his thoughts in order, but he no longer cared. He stopped trying when he felt Erik bite softly into his shoulder, "Yes."

The phantom's free hand wandered lower towards the body part that was screaming for more attention.

Raoul arched his body closer. He needed that touch. He wanted it so badly. He struggled in frustration when he couldn't move his hands to touch the phantom back. He so badly wanted to touch him back. It was perfect, this was perfect.

Everything with this man was stolen. First the stolen kiss and now this stolen moment. This moment that by all accounts shouldn't be occurring, and yet, here he was in pure ecstasy, writhing beneath the warm, supple body.

That warm hand slipped beneath his trousers pumping him in a firm grip. Erik moved his attentions from the Vicomte's neck and chest to return back to Raoul's lips. Raoul felt like he was being possessed by those kisses, and he didn't mind. He wanted to be possessed.

He was so close, but he didn't want to release so soon. Raoul tried to voice his predicament but the phantom's tongue in his mouth was making it rather impossible. When Erik finally had to pull back for air, the blonde stared intently into blue eyes that seemed to shine in the darkness, trying to ignore the strong hand that brought him ever closer and closer to completion.

"Not like this," Raoul whispered. He could see a strange look cross Erik's face, sort of as if his eyes glazed over, not really seeing him.

Erik leaned forward, catching Raoul's mouth in another kiss. "Come for me," his breath caressing the blonde's lips. It was the most erotic thing Raoul had ever experienced. So close to completion, Erik asserted once again, "Come for me, Christine."

Raoul shot up from his laying position his body covered in a fine sheen of sweat. It had just been a dream. He hoped it had been at least. Feeling exhausted he leaned heavily on his arms and looked around for any sign of Erik. The room was still dark indicating that morning was still some time away. He looked around for anything to tell him that it had only been a dream. He genuinely hoped it had all just been a dream. Seeing everything in his room exactly the way he remembered, Raoul slowly lay back down. The balcony doors were closed and locked. Turning on his side, he grabbed a pillow and hugged it close to his chest.

The dream had left him feeling drained and so empty. Most of all though, Raoul could not fight the feeling of betrayal. He pulled his blanket higher. It was cold. He positioned himself so that he could see the balcony doors. Certain sleep would evade him this night; he continued to stare at the doors that Erik had once entered through. In his mind's eye, he could see Erik's back turned from him. He could see the way he looked turning around and moving closer step by step as if he were drawn to the bedside. Raoul pulled the blanket even tighter; he could remember the feel of Erik pressed against him. Not the Erik from the dream, but the Erik who had kissed his cheek and sang to him.

Erik would be the death of him. Raoul couldn't believe he felt so emotionally attached to the man, but it hurt incredibly to think of him with someone else. It hurt to be without him, but it would kill him to be near him and never be able to be close. He should have listened to his mother and gone home, but he wouldn't want anyone around him. It was still an option though.

Raoul stared numbly at the doors. He couldn't feel the tears that silently fell onto his pillow.

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Talk about a buzz kill! Yeah, sorry I'm being so mean to Raoul. What a nightmare, huh? Hopefully, it wasn't too bad, I tried to tone down the whole scene, but you know, a traumatized Vicomte will help the story somewhat. It'll just make it harder for Erik to win him over. --

So, ummm, five reviews for the next installment. Thanks to all those who reviewed so far. I appreciate it:o) Actually, I don't really know if I need five reviews for this one. It was a bit risqué… ne? Eh, we'll just see how it goes.


	9. Organ Transplant

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash fic.

Warning(s): homosexual content, slash!

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: Such a deceiving title. It amuses me though.

Okay, so away from that fun little sex scene… you guys are killing me… I have work! I can't update all the time… it makes me sad, but you'll just have to wait in anticipation some more. Especially after this week, I'm going to be really busy. You'll have to wait until the weekends unless I decide to do what I did this week, forget all other work, and write fanfiction. Don't know if I can.

Whatever though, I'll try to keep up with your reviews… thanks for reviewing rather consistently, I appreciate it. I hope you guys didn't see the ending of the last chapter coming. Raoul's subconscious seems to be very mean to him, but let's go on with the drama.

o.o.o.o

Pass Time: Organ Transplant o-

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last Time: Raoul had a dream. (yeah, putting it like that makes it seem like nothing happened at all)

o.o.o.o

-.-

Erik awoke feeling more refreshed than he had felt in a long while. He had been having a wonderful dream (lol, not the same one Raoul had though, hmmm, not the _exact_ same one at least) that had involved a certain blonde. Today would be a busy day. He had a goal once again. He had a reason to live, and he would be busy trying to get his plan in place.

Raoul wouldn't have a clue as to what hit him.

Picking up the note he had written to the managers, he left his lair to deliver it. Everyone would be out practicing for the opera once more, and the managers often found themselves drawn to the chorus girls' rehearsals so they would be out of the office. On the other hand though, Erik believed he could be in the same room and still not rouse their suspicion so consumed with themselves they were. It was best to be safe though. He would not want the wrong people to know his presence.

Upon leaving the office without incident, Erik saw the perfect gift he would give Christine. Sneaking into her new room, he placed it neatly on the nightstand by her bed. He was about to wrap a black ribbon around it, but decided she did not need any unnecessary clues to his existence. Grinning to himself, he was certain she would love it.

He left at peace with himself. It was only the beginning. He had a feeling today and the days that followed would be a good days.

Having nothing else to do after leaving his gift, he wandered the halls observing all those that lived within the opera house's walls, as was his daily routine before it had caught flame. He could not do anything without word from the managers. He needed their money and of course their silence before he could continue.

He would also have to talk to Madame Giry. Erik knew he couldn't leave the woman out of his life completely. She _was_ the reason that he was where he was today. He would have to wait until practice was completed because she hated to be interrupted.

o.o.o.o

Christine sat watching Meg and the other chorus girls practice one scene over and over. She was done for the day and was waiting for Meg. She really had no one else to go to after rehearsals. According to Madame Giry's orders, she should be back in her room, but she just didn't want to be alone. Christine was afraid. It was best to be around people when she had the feeling that the phantom was still wandering the opera house.

She had no proof, but she had a bad feeling.

As if to confirm her suspicions, the managers walked on stage looking quite nervous. Firmin cleared his throat to obtain everyone's attention. His voice was a little shaky as he spoke, "Attention please." He really didn't have to say that since a hush had fallen upon everyone on the stage. It was as if everyone knew what he was to say.

"As you all know, the phantom is probably still alive. That accident yesterday with the sandbag surely must have been him. Did anyone see it happen?" Firmin continued.

The actors and dancers all shook their heads. Christine sighed. She thought it had been a note. Christine was starting to feel silly about the whole phantom subject, since she knew she had been the one to drop the sandbag. The phantom definitely would have shown himself yesterday and had not. She calmed at the thought. The phantom of the opera was really dead.

Erik watched from the shadows of Box 5. It would seem the managers had not read his note yet. He smirked imagining their reaction to the note considering they had just revealed he was alive. They did not have any solid proof, and he was certain the others would have come to the same conclusion either way. As long as Andre and Firmin did not confirm nor deny his existence any further, Erik would leave them be.

Firmin asked again, "Are you sure no one saw what happened? Not a ghost, not a shadow?"

Everyone shook their heads no. None had even seen a shadow moving across the catwalks like they usually did when something occurred. Christine was embarrassed. She could calm everyone else down if she told them that she had been the one to drop the sandbag, but Madame Giry would have her head. She decided it was best if not everyone else knew.

Erik eyed Christine warily. She was leaning against the wall, looking rather… well, if he thought about it, she looked rather guilty. He put two and two together and still couldn't believe it. Christine had dropped that sandbag. She had been rather drunk, if her breath had been any indication of that. Such irony amused him. It would work to his advantage if Christine was the only one who did not believe that he was back.

Firmin commented too loudly to himself, "It seems the opera ghost has not been killed... or, he has and is now really a ghost." He heard the frightened gasped and looked around self-consciously. He hadn't meant to worry the others, but it seemed that a ghost haunting them was more of a possibility than he had once believed. The mob had scoured the cellars and Raoul was certain that the man was dead. The sandbag could only mean he came back from the dead. The opera ghost had been merely a man before but now if the opera ghost was now a ghost then life would be extremely harder.

Erik wondered at their stupidity. They believed superstitions entirely too much.

"We will have to work harder and be certain we do stay on his good side," Andre said trying to mollify the girls who had become uneasy at the thought of a real ghost, "Just be certain you do not walk alone. Always be in groups just in case."

"I say," Firmin spoke, "if we do very well in our performances and be on our best behavior, I think we could meet his standards and he will leave us be."

Erik laughed to himself. That was quite the optimistic thing for Firmin to say. It was almost as though he had read the note that waited for them in their office. Erik thought he was being rather generous in the offer.

One of the chorus girls shouted, "We will never meet his standards!"

Erik rolled his eyes. Chorus girls were so dramatic. He was getting bored. He needed to talk with Madame Giry.

"He had not interfered in our business until last night. We can hope that he will remain placated for longer," Andre stated, then turned around to leave with Firmin. They had business to complete in their office.

Everyone nodded their heads in agreement. They would walk in groups, not wanting to be caught alone with an opera ghost who may well be a real ghost. They would do their best in the operas, which Erik considered they should already be doing, so that he would not need to interfere. Everyone hoped that the opera ghost would not appear to them.

Seeing that the managers were done speaking, the group began to disband. Erik watched as Madame Giry waited on the stage expectantly. She would be waiting for him or for some sign of him, and he would be sure not to disappoint.

o.o.o.o

Christine couldn't believe it. She had watched everyone become so worked up over the news that the phantom might still be alive. She hoped that she had not overreacted like that before. It was just a sandbag falling. If they thought about it rationally, they would realize that there was no phantom of the opera. Even if she had not accidentally dropped that sandbag, any other factor could have made it fall. She smiled to herself.

She had left the cellars of the opera house alone, but she had hoped Raoul had gone back to finish the job. Of course, he did not tell her if he did or did not at the time after he returned home, and it would seem he had. He had looked rather traumatized, maybe he was not used to killing anyone or maybe he saw his dead body. Raoul deserved to be traumatized though, Christine thought, considering that she believed he had abandoned her.

The opera ghost was gone and she was feeling more safe and at home in the opera house than ever before. She looked around paranoid that anyone would see her so happy after hearing such horrible news. Seeing nothing moving in the shadows did not ease her mind. People in the opera house were always looking for the tiniest bit of gossip and news to spread around. She would have to rejoice elsewhere. Now that the phantom was dead, she felt liberated. She realized after leaving that lair that she could not love a twisted man like the phantom, especially when he had nothing to offer her since he had gone insane.

She reviewed all the events that she had gone through because of that man, that monster. The phantom had even scared away her chance at a good match. He had scared Raoul away. Oh, how she wished she knew what transpired after she left the lair. She would have liked to see the phantom skewered after ruining everything.

Snapping her out of her reverie, Meg laid a hand on her shoulder.

"What would you like to do now, Christine?" Meg asked sparing a glance at her mother who in turn gave her a stern look, "I don't think mother would want us to do anything outside the opera house."

Christine sighed. It seemed to her that she was being trapped within the building that had once given her so much life. "Can we not just get some fresh air?"

Meg once again looked towards her mother for confirmation. She knew that Madame Giry was paying close attention to Christine after the little alcohol incident and especially now that the Phantom was back. Madame Giry gave Christine a scrutinizing look over, then nodded her head.

Erik waited until everyone including Meg and Christine was out of sight. Dropping lightly from the hanging walkways, he waited for Madame Giry to acknowledge him. He knew she heard him; she had a certain sense when it came to him.

"Erik," she whispered, looking around.

Erik simply stepped slightly out of the shadows of the curtains.

She made no move towards him, wary of his reaction to her. He could tell she was checking to make sure he was okay. It had been a while since they had last seen each other, and she had been the one who had brought Raoul to him.

Madame Giry of course thought the fact that she had led the boy to him would have been a bad thing to do. It was ironic that it had probably turned out to be the very thing that Erik considered the best thing to have happened.

"You have been well," Erik stated. He hated small talk. Mme. Giry did look well though, and he was glad for it. He appreciated her past efforts to protect him and she was still one of the only people he trusted.

"I have," she answered. As usual, she spoke frankly, "Are you angry with me?"

Erik played dumb, "Whatever for, Madame?"

She glared at him. He was playing with her and she did not appreciate it. "For showing the Vicomte the way to your home."

"It is of no import now," Erik shrugged if off. It would do him no good if she knew he was infatuated with the boy.

"Did you drop that sandbag?" Madame Giry asked doubtfully. She did not think it was his style.

Erik grinned, "No, Madame. It was actually not me. I would appreciate if you do not tell anyone of my presence. I have informed the managers of the same request. They would have read the note by now. I presume. It was actually Mademoiselle Daae who dropped it. She had been inebriated yesterday."

Erik could barely suppress the humor he felt when he saw Madame Giry become even more angered at Christine. It was too much fun.

o.o.o.o

"Where would you like to go? The roof?" Meg suggested.

The proposal sent shivers down Christine's spine. No, definitely not the roof. Too many memories were attached to that place. She didn't want to be up there considering there was only one entrance and exit besides a fatal drop from the rooftop. There may be no phantom but she was not going to place herself in such a vulnerable position. "How about the back instead?"

"Wow," Meg commented after a while, as they headed towards the back doors of the opera house. The admirers were once again clamoring and crowding the front doors for their prima donnas, so the back was the best option, "I don't think I've ever seen mama so strict before, Christine."

"I'm so glad I was the one to bring out the best of her," she replied sarcastically. Finally outside, Christine took a deep breath. She could feel a calm descend upon her. She had been on edge for the past couple of weeks because of the opera house, and being outside it, even if only a couple of steps was a bit of a relief. She felt that she could finally relax and live the rest of her life as a prima donna.

However, they were not alone. A wagon with a tarp covering something in the back actually pulled up at the back just when Meg and Christine were settling themselves and enjoying the calm.

"Excuse me, Mademoiselle," the driver called, "I'm looking for a Madame Giry."

"Why, Monsieur?" Meg asked looking towards the back of the wagon.

"I'm delivering a package that needs her attention immediately," the driver's companion answered.

Looking towards Christine who wasn't moving, Meg took the initiative going back inside the opera house to find her mother.

Christine wondered what was under the tarp and seeing that the driver and his companion were too engrossed in a conversation to notice her, she moved to the back to sneak a peak.

Whatever they were delivering was small by no means. Lifting the cloth a bit, Christine was surprised when a letter fell out. Opening it, she didn't bother to try and forego the seal:

_Madame Giry_

_If you would be so kind to give this to our mutual friend. I thought it was best to offer a peace offering. I saw that his organ had been destroyed. It would be a shame to force him to go without music for too long. Has it been months already since the opera house burned down? I hope you do not mind that I sent it to you, but I could not have sent it to him directly._

_I do not know how you will be moving it downstairs, but I'm sure the OG will certainly think of some way._

_Vicomte de Chagny_

Trying to process this information, she was startled when the back door opened. Quickly pushing the letter back in the envelope and shoving it under the tarp again, she did not notice a second note flutter to the floor.

Madame Giry walked promptly to the driver to pay him. She knew Erik followed closely, and the less people around the better. She was surprised at the delivery, an organ! Who would send her an organ? She eyed the instrument doubtfully.

"Are you certain that this is for me?" she asked dubiously.

The driver rolled his eyes, "You Mme. Giry? Then it's for you."

It was then that she saw the envelope. Mme. Giry took into account the fact that the seal had been broken. She didn't bother to look towards Christine. If she had noticed it, then Erik would have noticed. Christine would get what was coming to her, and probably from the phantom. Madame Giry would also punish her more for not revealing that she had been the one to drop the sandbag. Pushing those thoughts aside for a later time, she focused on the organ and the note in her hands. Reading the note, cleared some facts for her, but it also raised more questions. Why would the Vicomte send Erik an organ? Nodding her head towards the waiting movers, she pointed towards double doors a few meters down. Wasn't Raoul out of town anyway?

Luckily for them, the opera house was equipped to allow entrance to wide loads. Using the props entrance, they were able to maneuver the organ inside the backstage of the opera house.

"An organ?" Meg exclaimed. She immediately jumped to the correct conclusion. It was for the phantom. She would have to speak to her mother privately. The phantom was a touchy subject for Christine, and she didn't want to trouble her.

Christine nodded not really hearing her. She was wondering what the note could mean. Raoul was supposed to have left Paris and be gone for good. How is it that he sent an organ, and why to a "mutual friend"? Since when was the phantom a friend to the Vicomte? Its delivery was too timely. Just after the first day of reopening and the incident and it had been sent. The phantom was gone, but Raoul… she fumed at the thought that Raoul had lied to her. Not only did he not kill the phantom, but he would rather send the phantom gifts than talk with her. She paused. If Raoul had not killed the phantom, did that mean he was still alive? She shook her head. The mob must have killed him. The opera house hadn't heard a squeak from the phantom and she doubted the man could be so quiet. Raoul would feel her wrath though. It would seem that the Vicomte had a soft spot for the dead man. She would be sure to use that fact to her advantage.

These thoughts filled her mind as she blindly followed Meg and Madame Giry inside.

Erik waited until the movers left. He had seen Christine try to hide the note after reading it and he saw the second note fall as well. Quickly scanning the alleyway for any other individual, much like the wind he stepped out and grabbed the note, quickly pocketing it. He would read it after he brought his new organ down to his music room.

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

I know random place to stop, but I wanted to post this as soon as possible, the next chapter will be longer and will have more substance… don't remember Raoul sending an organ… don't worry neither does he. Not yet at least, but let's just wait for the next chapter for that bit.

So, ummm, five reviews for the next installment. Thanks to all those who reviewed so far. I appreciate it:o) This time, I swear you may have to wait until Sunday or later before the next chapter… I'm getting no work done right now.

The wording in this one was weird. I'm having a hard time. Writer's block. I'll be sure to spend more time on the next chapter because the fun is really about to begin.


	10. Christine’s Assumption

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash fic.

Warning(s): homosexual content, slash!

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: Thanks for reviewing. I hope this one is good. The only reason this fic has actually kept going was because of the reviews. Currently, I'm losing my obsession with POTO (which is quite the tragedy), and I'm losing the drive to keep writing. (Current obsession: House/Wilson in the tv show House, MD) And that's bad because I just bought House, MD Season 1, so I'm watching that, I'm getting ideas up the ass with that show, and POTO is fading into the background. I promise I'll finish this fic though. You guys just have to keep me in check. I have to reread the story so many times so that I'm in the right mindset, and I'm listening to the soundtrack right now to force myself to be in the mood. I don't think I'll be able to get this up on Sunday, but I hope I will, and if I don't sorry.

o.o.o.o

Pass Time: Christine's Assumption o-

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last Time: An organ is sent to Erik via Madame Giry from Raoul. Christine reads who it's from and though she doesn't believe Erik's alive, she has her suspicions that Raoul is still in Paris though everyone believes all the Chagnies had left.

o.o.o.o

-.-

Raoul had not quite woken in the morning, rather he realized that his eyes felt awfully dry and hurt from the sun. Blinking them a couple of times, he first saw his balcony doors. He had not slept after that dream had woken him. In fact, he had stared at the balcony doors in a trance until the moment he decided it was time to get up when the sun's glare through the door began to hurt his eyes. He was not quite sure if he was happy or disappointed that no one had come.

Rolling on his back, Raoul let out a deep sigh and stared at the ceiling. He needed to separate dream from reality. It was all blurring together in his mind. The confusion was starting to annoy him.

The masquerade had definitely been real. He had seen Erik. He had not only seen Erik, but he had seen him with Christine… holding hands. He pushed the thought aside with effort. He had gone to his box and after the sandbag had fallen, Erik had been in his box. Erik had kissed him. Raoul closed his eyes at the memory. Tracing his lips with his fingertips, the blonde could almost feel the heat that existed between them. But he remembered how much it had hurt, not physically, but Erik didn't love him.

He was with Christine.

Raoul fast-forwarded through the night. He could not quite remember how he'd gotten home, but it didn't matter. Then, Erik had come through the balcony doors and started to touch him intimately. Touch him until Raoul could no longer stand it. Then he had spoken Christine's name.

The blonde was beginning to hate Christine, hate the name, and hate her existence. Raoul turned his head toward his balcony. The doors were locked. So, that means it could not have happened. That last part was a dream. He was also wearing his shirt. He could remember Erik's hands on his chest. He had taken it off because he had been hot. It was a dream.

Again, Raoul was torn about whether he should be relieved or not. He was admittedly already traumatized by the experience, but he would have rather been traumatized by the real thing. Christine was a hindrance, but he would do nothing if Erik was happy.

Either way, Raoul reminded himself that he did not love the man. Did not love him so much that he would stay in a city that held nothing but a painful past and more than likely a painful future. Did not love him that it hurt just to be away. Did not love him to the point of just wanting to beg the man to just take him and just pretend. Pretend for at least one moment that he loved him back. It would hurt so much more, but that one moment had to be all he could ask for… _if_ he was in love.

He was so tired of it all. No, he did not love the man at all.

Sleep sounded good to him. He wanted to sleep more, but thoughts of that dream still lingered.

With the probability of experiencing _that_ again, Raoul stood up. He had nothing planned today, but there was only really one thing he felt like doing. He left his room only to enter another one down the hall. The handful of loyal servants, only four of them, knew to stay out of his way. He was certain that they had been the ones to help him last night, and he was actually quite appreciative of them all. In fact, he had grown up with them. They had always been around him, and because of that, they knew that he would not eat until he was hungry. He would not eat unless he felt like it actually.

Lately, they had learned his new habits – the ones he had fallen into after the incident. They knew that Raoul would not eat at all today. The room he had entered was a clear indication of that fact. The house had been quiet, but after a few moments, the mournful sound of the violin being played echoed through the empty halls.

Raoul had grown to love that violin. It was the only time he could clear his mind. It was the only time that he could stop the pain, or maybe he felt the pain but it was easier because he was able to use the violin to express that pain. He felt alive with the violin in his arms. Everything else he owned, he had sent back with his mother. The only things left in the house were a few portraits (only ones his mother hadn't liked) and his clothes. His family abandoned Paris, and in a way, Raoul felt like they had abandoned him too.

That was the depression talking though. He nestled the violin underneath his chin. He appreciated the quiet, but sometimes the lack of voices made him remember he was all alone. He had chosen his life though. The vibrations of the strings soothed his mind, made him feel surprisingly safe and warm. Less isolated.

The staff knew that Raoul would play until he could no longer feel his arms.

o.o.o.o

Upon entering the opera house Madame Giry turned to Christine sharply, "I want you to go directly to your room and I do not want to hear another sound come from there. Meg," Madame Giry turned to her daughter with a less severe look, "accompany Christine _directly_ to her room, understand?"

"Yes, mama," Meg nodded. She wondered why her mother seemed even more angered with Christine. She would have to talk to her about the Phantom of the Opera later in the evening.

Christine shook herself from her thoughts in time to see the look she was receiving from Madame Giry. She stood dumbfounded for a moment before she received a tug from Meg.

The two girls walked in silence to Christine's room, and when they were close, Meg asked the obvious question, "What did you do to anger mama, Christine?"

Christine was not sure, but she thought she knew the answer. Madame Giry had probably noticed that she had opened the note. It was quite a stupid and obvious thing to do, but she could not help if she was curious. So, Christine answered as much, and remembered the _real_ news that had come from the whole night.

"Meg," Christine stopped in front of her door and turned to said girl, "I think Raoul is still in Paris."

"Raoul?" Meg asked confused. Christine was truly acting weird. First, she opens notes that are not for her, and now she thinks her ex-fiancé is still in Paris, "He has left, Christine. Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine. It was because of that note. Raoul was the one who sent it. He sent it to Madame Giry so that she could send it to the Phantom."

"He sent an organ to the Phantom? I thought they were rivals, Christine," Meg was really confused. It made no sense. Raoul and the Phantom had been rivals - rivals because of Christine. She opened the door to Christine's bedroom and wished she had spoken to her mother before talking with her. Christine was keeping something secret, and Meg didn't know what it was just yet. She was certain it was important though.

Christine brushed past Meg into her room in her excitement from the news. Meg rolled her eyes and followed after. Christine and Meg began to light to room. Meg started from the door and Christine from her bed. Meg had just started when Christine let out a horrified scream, which seemed to echo in the room. Rushing over to her side, Meg could not help but scream as well.

There laying on Christine's nightstand were two dead and bloodied rats. Their beady eyes stared blankly ahead and it appeared that the rats had dragged themselves from a rattrap from the trail of blood. It looked like one had gnawed off a leg to free itself, and the other had been there to help the other or rather eat its companion before dying itself. The room was beginning to smell badly, but it was mostly the fact that Christine had almost touched them that had frightened her the most.

"The Phantom of the Opera!" Meg gasped.

Christine, finally calmed and looking away from the dead creatures, paused for a moment before half-heartedly agreeing, "Yes, of course the Phantom of the Opera." It could have been the Phantom of the Opera, but she doubted it. Those rats could have literally crawled onto her bedside nightstand, but she doubted it. Maybe it was another message from the Vicomte. He could be bitter with her for kissing the Erik so long ago, and was just now exacting his revenge when she would think him gone. It was easy to pay a messenger to do his dirty deeds. He had the money and some beggar off the street would do it joyfully for money. Christine was starting to think that Raoul wanted to start a war between them. She almost snorted aloud that the Vicomte thought she would not realize it was him.

Meg noticed this lack of response. In fact, if she remembered carefully, Christine was always the first one to concur rather enthusiastically whenever some drama transpired. It was _always_ the Phantom of the Opera, and Christine would always turn hysterical or excited.

"Christine, what are you hiding?"

Christine didn't want to face Meg. She knew she couldn't lie that well. It would be obvious on her face.

"Tell me the truth."

"Well," she started, "I don't think the Phantom of the Opera is alive."

"How can you not? You saw the sandbag fall so close to Carlotta."

"You see, Meg, that was me. I just wanted to rest a bit, and I ended up dropping the bag by accident."

"What!" Meg cried out, but hushed when Christine looked at her sharply. She continued softly, "So, he's really dead."

"I believe so. I think Raoul is trying to frighten me though."

"The Vicomte?" Meg asked incredulously, "Why would he try to terrorize you? He used to love you."

"He _used to_. I betrayed him, Meg. I betrayed him." Christine said almost hysterically. She sat heavily on her bed. Her eyes happened to land on the rats still on her nightstand. Wincing, she knew she needed to get someone to throw them away. Raoul _was_ playing with her and she would get him back.

Meg sat beside Christine, as far away from the rats the bed would allow. "How could you have betrayed him, Christine? The Vicomte saved you."

"I kissed the phantom."

Meg stared dumbly at her, "You did what?"

"I kissed the phantom," Christine rushed to say the next part, "But he was going to kill Raoul, and it was the only thing I could think to do."

Meg didn't want to say it, but she was wondering if Raoul was justified in being angry with Christine. The two were bitter rivals, Raoul and the Phantom. Christine had _had_ to choose and she did. Meg was starting to realize Christine did choose, but she chose the Phantom.

"Raoul is trying to get to me," Christine spoke before Meg could respond, "I won't let that happen though. I now know he's here and I won't let him get away with harassing me. I think I'm going to pay him a visit." Christine paused as though thinking, and then she suddenly realized Meg was still in the room. "Okay," Christine faked a yawn, "I think I'll be getting to sleep now. I'll see you tomorrow."

Christine stood up and opened the door waiting for Meg to leave. Meg didn't want to leave, and she knew that Christine was going to do something incredibly stupid. She had the desire to run to the Vicomte's house and warn him, but instead she left the room slowly. After hearing the door shut loudly, Meg walked quickly to her mother, who she assumed was still by the organ. She had to tell her mother that the Phantom of the Opera was dead and Christine was going to do something to the Vicomte.

o.o.o.o

Madame Giry watched as her daughter and her almost daughter left. She would have to come up with a reason that the organ was no longer backstage, but no one needed to know that the Vicomte had bought the Phantom an organ. She smiled faintly to herself when she turned around to see Erik circling the organ eagerly. She could practically feel the excitement radiating off of his very posture.

She didn't want to break the spell that had fallen upon him, but seeing as anyone could just find them, she started, "Erik."

Erik turned to her, a slightly confused look marring his usual expression-less face. Clearing his throat, he suppressed his excitement.

"Christine read the note."

"Yes," Erik walked to her, "the note. May I?"

He held out his hand. He turned his back toward Madame Giry for the illusion of some privacy. He grinned, seeing it was from Raoul, but his mood darkened upon fully reading it. 'Mutual friend' and 'peace offering' were quite painful and telling phrases. So, now that Raoul knew Erik had seen him, the Vicomte was trying to buy his peace. Raoul only wanted peace between them. Friends. As if he could just be a friend with the man. Erik decided that he would force Raoul to see him as more than just someone that needed to be tolerated. He would make the blonde fall in love with him if he had to push the blonde against every wall and molest him.

"Erik?" Madame Giry had watched as he read the note. She couldn't tell what was going on in his mind, but she needed to know if he would be angry or pleased with this new development. She considered the Vicomte quite brave for extending this olive branch, but Erik was not known for accepting olive branches.

"Do not tell anyone that the Vicomte is still here."

"What are you going to do to him?" Madame Giry replied, worried, "He is trying to make peace. How did he even know you were here?"

"I happened upon him at the masquerade." Erik walked to the organ, running his hand along the edges. He answered vaguely, "I do not plan to do… _much_ to him. I will take his gift downstairs with me."

Before Madame Giry could reply, footsteps neared them. Erik quickly hid, watching what would happen.

"Mama," Meg said a little breathlessly, "it's about the Phantom of the Opera."

Madame Giry looked surreptitiously to the shadows.

"He's really dead. Christine dropped the sandbag."

"Really," Madame Giry stated noncommittally. She raised her eyebrows a bit to indicate some surprise. "She will have to punished more."

"Should we tell the others?"

Madame Giry pretended to consider it, "We will just have to wait until Christine decides to share with the rest of us. The damage is done already, and people will still believe in the Phantom of the Opera. They will not believe Christine if she told them anything."

Meg nodded, understanding. Even though she knew Christine had dropped the sandbag, she still had rushed to find her mother. She did not want to walk the opera house alone. "That's not all, mama."

Erik rolled his eyes in the shadows. He would have to remember never to tell Meg anything. It would seem Meg kept no secrets from her mother.

"Christine read the note and believes that Raoul had someone place dead rats on her nightstand."

Again, Madame Giry glanced at the shadows.

"She thinks that Raoul is trying to get his revenge. Then, she kicked me out of the room after saying that she was going to pay him a visit."

Madame Giry once again spared a glance to the shadows, but this time, she was glancing at nothing but shadows. Quickly, with her daughter in tow, she raced to Christine's bedroom.

o.o.o.o

Erik stood behind the mirror of Christine's new room. The woman could not be stupid enough to believe that Raoul had been the one to leave the rats. Why would the Vicomte leave rats on her nightstand? Well, then again, why would he leave rats on her nightstand? That was beside the point though. He would be leaving more than dead rats if Christine thought to do something to the Vicomte.

He glanced into the room, hoping that Christine was not as stupid as he thought.

He couldn't see anything though. All the candles had been blown out.

The door opened revealing Meg and Madame Giry.

Erik watched anxiously. Did Christine leave already? He was ready to bolt out of the opera house and make his way to the Vicomte's house once Madame Giry finally lit the room.

Madame Giry walked closer to the bed and lit the bedside candle. The rats were still present, but Christine was nowhere to be seen.

Cursing, Erik raced to the Vicomte's house.

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Sorry I didn't post this on Sunday. In fact, I just finished it at 2 am this morning. Bad cliffhanger and I swear I'll update soon.

So, five reviews for the next installment. Thanks to all those who reviewed so far. I appreciate it:o) Keep me in the right mood to write POTO slash (because the world is definitely lacking in Erik/Raoul slash).


	11. Christine’s Revenge

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash fic.

Warning(s): homosexual content, slash!

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: Got another chapter for you. This one's a pretty bad chapter to leave you on, but we'll see what happens. I dropped everything today just to write it. Consider it a Labor Day present! It's kinda short, but only because if I continued it, then it would be incredibly long – and we all know that wouldn't do. grin Yes, I'm evil.

Thanks for these reviewers and everyone else who has reviewed:

darklady5289 – you're ruthless when it comes to Christine. :o) it's amusing… I don't think I'll kill her (at least not in this fic) fluff will eventually occur, I can't stand not adding it, too.

NightmareFX – I'm trying not to let House take over… thanks for your enthusiastic reviews. I'll take your extra 7 reviews and work faster!

Giggles – Yeah, but technically actions speak louder than words (well, mouthed words in their case) and I'll let you have that first kiss, you know. It was the second one where she was excavating his mouth with her tongue that would make me think she had chosen who she wanted to be with. It's very true though, it was a lose-lose situation. Christine lost. But it wasn't like Erik said 'make out with me and I'll let you go', that in itself was a gamble she took, and she seemed to take it way more willingly the second time she made out with him. That's just my theory… that and the fact that it helps my plot (so dramatic license it is). Christine annoyed me to no end anyway.

MHorseRider – that _would_ be fun; it does provide an amazingly fun mental picture.

o.o.o.o

Pass Time: Christine's Revenge o-

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last Time: Christine's going to something stupid as she swears revenge on Raoul. Meg tattles on her to Madame Giry, and Christine's not in her room. Erik rushes off to the Vicomte's household to make sure Christine doesn't do anything.

o.o.o.o

-.-

Meg shied away from her mother slowly. She could practically feel her anger. Meg _would_ have felt sorry for Christine, but she was beginning to see that Christine brought all this trouble upon herself. Then, she would go lying to everyone and making threats and accusations on people who have basically avoided her. Meg really didn't understand what was going through Christine's mind these days. They had been really close at one point, but now they had just drifted so far apart.

Madame Giry shook her head. Christine was like a daughter to her, but if she persisted in lying and acting up, Madame Giry didn't think she could protect her. Erik was more of a son than Christine would ever be a daughter to her. She would protect Erik as long as he needed protecting. She would try with Christine, but the girl would not even listen to her.

Right now though, if she guessed correctly, Raoul would be the one who needed protecting. Christine had been quite merciless in her dealings with the Phantom. She could not help be biased, but Meg had told her about the appearance of the Phantom's lair. Madame Giry had known that Christine's angel and her Erik were the same people. She had not thought betrayal was in Christine's nature, but the girl had proved her wrong. She had unmasked the man and revealed who she thought to be a monster. If that rejection was any indication, Raoul would have to be wary about his whole dealings with Christine. She was not quite sure what the child would really do or plan, but Madame Giry would rather be on the safe side and keep the two away from each other.

"Meg," Madame Giry turned to her daughter, "go to sleep."

"But, mama, aren't you going to do anything? What if Christine does something to the Vicomte?"

Madame Giry walked her out of Christine's room. "I will send someone over to visit the Chagny estate and tell the Vicomte that Christine knows he is here."

"Why would he hide the fact he was here?"

"He probably felt betrayed," Madame Giry answered.

Meg had thought the same thing, but having it verified made it seem more true. She felt badly for the Vicomte. Meg had witnessed how much the blonde had loved Christine. He was always doting on her and giving her his undivided attention and numerous gifts. He had spoiled her, and in return, all he received was a broken heart. The whole opera house knew of the story of when Raoul had been recovering. He yelled at Christine about loving the Phantom of the Opera and broke off their engagement. Then, Raoul was said to no longer speak at all and the Chagnies left Paris.

At least that's what everyone thought. It would seem that not everything was as it seemed before.

Meg didn't think Christine would do anything too harmful, but she may do something rash. Meg hoped that someone would make certain that Raoul would be safe.

o.o.o.o

Christine had managed to find her way inside the walls of the Chagny estate. Holding a lantern outstretched from her hand, she picked her way through the small woods outside of the estate.

The carriage driver hadn't asked her the reason she needed a ride to the estate in the middle of the night, and Christine was glad for that. Now that she was creeping through a very dark and very scary area of the woods, she did not remember what had driven her to make such a drastic move.

There were many other ways to get revenge. Many that did not include traipsing through someone else's property in the middle of night.

Christine looked around warily. She swore she heard something. Her head whipped to the left. The bushes had moved. Holding the lantern out to shed some light, she saw nothing. An owl called out startling her. She had the eerie feeling that some animal was staring at her. It unnerved her.

Still, she pushed her way forward still. A light was still on in the house making it easier for her to head towards her destination.

She didn't know exactly what she would do to get her revenge. Not yet, but the walk from the perimeter to the estate was long enough for her to figure out some threat. First she would surprise him by forcing him to acknowledge her. Maybe she could tell him to stop harassing her. Tell him that his scare tactics did nothing but make her laugh. Of course, she could leave out the part where she _had_ actually screamed because of the rats, but that was a minor detail.

Then, she would use her real weapon. Raoul thought that the Phantom was still alive and he was trying to make nice. Christine could use that to her advantage. She could say that the Phantom had told her that he wanted nothing to do with the Vicomte. She could terrorize Raoul under the guise of it being the phantom. It was perfect. It was brilliantly perfect, and Christine wouldn't have to worry about the Phantom of the Opera revealing her lies. Raoul would then really be forced to leave Paris, and Christine could live her life with her happy ending.

Christine stifled a scream when she felt something brush against her leg. Enough of the evil planning, Christine walked faster to get out of the woods. The sounds were frightening and she was getting jumpy.

She was nearing and had to find a way to get inside the house. She couldn't just knock on the front door. Actually…

o.o.o.o

Raoul placed the violin down for a moment. He stretched his sore limbs. He had been playing the whole day, and now not only did his limbs hurt, he was finally hungry. He only remembered faintly when one of the servants had entered the room to light the candles. A glance outside the window told him that it was already well into the night.

A yawn broke its way through his mouth. He felt exhausted. His arms hung limply down at his sides, but he felt better. His mind felt blissfully vacant.

Raoul left the room to sneak his way downstairs and to the kitchen. The others should be asleep by this time, but he was certain that he could make something for himself. Or at least find something that required no effort at all.

The Vicomte smiled to himself when he saw a covered plate already placed on the kitchen counter. On the plate were fruit and bread along with a note from his staff.

He knew they spoiled him. Even though they were his servants, they were closer than that; Raoul never actually told them what to do. They knew why they had been hired and were wonderful in their jobs. Not only that, they were exceedingly thoughtful. He was glad that some had stayed. In retrospect, it would have been impossible for him to brood and keep the house clean.

He had just started on his second piece of fruit when he heard what sounded like someone knocking on his front door. He wondered who would be out at this time of night, and who would be bothering him. He was tempted to just wake one of the others since he was supposed to be out of town, but he decided it wouldn't hurt to just take a peak through the windows.

Looking down at his apparel, he knew he couldn't open the door because he was only in his pajamas.

Fruit still in hand, he silently padded in the darkness towards the front door. Raoul made sure he stayed in the shadows. As he crouched low under a windowsill, the polite knocking turned into pounding on the door.

And a voice Raoul loathed with his very being spoke out, "Raoul! Raoul, I know you're there. I want you to open this door right now."

Raoul didn't bother to look out the window. He slowly lowered himself to the ground, the fruit fallen forgotten on the floor. How would Christine know he was still in Paris? The only person who knew that he was still in Paris besides Andre and Firmin, who were under strict orders not to tell with penalty of losing their funding, was… Erik. Erik told Christine he was still in town. The torture continues.

"Raoul. Wake up! Wake up!" Christine pounded on the door with more fervor. She was annoyed that she hadn't just taken the pathway up to the house. She had decided last minute just to use the front door, but then realized that hiding in the woods had been pointless then. She was certain she had torn her gown with the trek and that some bugs had crawled upon her. She was irritated that she had gone through that ordeal and now no one was answering the door. She would wake up the whole household if she had to.

Raoul leaned his head against the wall. He didn't want the others to wake up and deal with her. If Christine got an idea in her head, she would not quit until she got her way. The household would never find peace. Raoul stood bravely. He would just face her and tell her some lie.

"Raoul!" Christine's voice became shrill, and Raoul flinched in response.

Before she could continue, Raoul braced himself and opened the door.

"Hello, Christine," Raoul stated calmly, "Won't you please come on in?"

Christine huffed and primly walked into the house, lantern still in hand. She walked to the sitting room in silence.

Raoul turned to see his whole staff standing nearby. He motioned for them to go back to sleep and followed Christine into the room. Raoul hadn't brought a candle with him, so they used the one from Christine's lantern. He opened the door and pulled out the candle, lighting the fireplace easily.

He indicated for Christine to take a seat while he placed the candle back into to lantern, leaving the door slight ajar just in case they needed more light in the room.

Instead, she stood glaring at him. Raoul considered glaring back but figured that the effect would be neutralized since he was really only wearing his pajamas. Instead, he chose to look at her with boredom. Raoul hated the girl in front of him so much, he could feel his hands tremble slightly with the suppressed emotion. He fisted his hands but kept them behind his back to hide his emotions.

"You, you liar!" Christine yelled again. She had been more eloquent in her head.

Raoul motioned for her to keep her voice down, "I would appreciate if you would speak at a normal volume. I am neither deaf nor far from you. It is late at night and you have already woken me." Raoul lied easily.

Christine glared harder, if that were possible. Her voice quieted and held an undertone of her own suppressed anger, "I'll make this quite simple for you then. You stay away from the Opera House. The Phantom of the Opera does not want you near it, and if you attempt to try anything against me again, he said that he will make you regret it."

Those words felt like a physical blow to him. Raoul could feel the tears threaten to show, but he held them back. He swallowed through the sudden tightness in his throat and said politely, "I have done nothing to you Christine. I do not know what you are referring to. I merely came back to see the first opera in the Opera Populaire since the reconstruction."

Christine almost felt her anger dissipate. What if she had been mistaken? What if Raoul hadn't left those rats on her nightstand? What if he had left Paris only to come for the first show? She narrowed her eyes at the man she had almost married and reminded herself that Raoul was trying to get her off-guard so that he could continue to harass her. She felt her rage increase. She wanted to hit him. "Liar!" She yelled again. This time she ran toward him and tried to slap him.

Raoul easily caught the hand that had meant to strike him, and tried to get Christine to calm down. Instead, she struggled harder against his grasp. His arms were already tired from playing the violin all day, and he didn't have much strength left in him. They crashed against the wall beside one of the windows in the room, tearing the curtain down. They knocked over some more chairs and an empty candle holder, until finally, when she calmed down enough, Raoul let her go.

Christine straightened her gown and walked toward her lantern. "You, Monsieur, are a liar and a monster. Erik will have his way with you."

Raoul wanted to kill his libido at that moment as an involuntary memory came up. He blushed and was thankful he could blame it because of the struggle with Christine. Of course, it was a double-edged sword. Erik did want to have his way with him, but it was all simply to break him. Christine had made that point quite clear. Erik would protect Christine. It was their story. That's just the way it went. The Phantom of the Opera would want Christine and do anything to keep her, but this time around, Raoul didn't want the girl. He wanted the man.

In the coldest voice he could muster through his embarrassment and sadness, he replied, "Mademoiselle, I believe that you are the monster. You must be delusional since I have not done anything to you. Take your insane accusations and never step onto my estate again, whether or not I am on it. Good night."

Raoul barely dodged the lantern that flew at his head.

o.o.o.o

Erik was lucky that it was nighttime. He stole a horse from the stable and raced towards the Chagny estate. Christine would have ordered a carriage to take her there, and he would have to play catch-up.

Erik's mind was racing, too. He had not planned on seeing the Vicomte so soon. It was not part of his plan, but he had to check on the boy just in case.

He did not quite know why he was so worried. What could Christine do to Raoul? It's not as though Christine had any skills in fighting and Erik knew for certain that the blonde could hold his own. Not only had he experienced Raoul's strength during the swordfight but he had felt the lithe body pinned beneath him. Erik forced his mind to stay on task.

Something felt wrong. When it came to Raoul, all the bad feelings he had had in the past were true, so he would not ignore it this time. He just knew that something was going to happen.

Christine did have something in her favor though. She had the element of surprise. At this hour, the blonde could be sleeping and for all he knew, Christine could smother him in his sleep. He doubted that would happen, but the thoughts came unbidden. That and many other even more unlikely scenarios crossed his mind. It did nothing but worry him more. The ideas were absurd, but if something felt wrong, something would be wrong. Everyone's vulnerable in their sleep.

Nearing the estate, Erik cursed whatever god could hear him. His heart contracted painfully as cold fear grabbed his senses. He smelt it before he actually saw it. Smoke. The Chagny estate lit up the darkness as the house burned. Flames strained towards the heavens. The smoke rose slowly. There was no night wind. The sounds reminded him faintly of when the Opera Populaire had burned.

Erik left the horse outside the estate. With so much grass and trees, the fire could reach the perimeter, but Erik hoped that the stone wall would keep it contained.

The fire was only consuming the house, but Erik knew it would not remain as such. He raced through the lawn, using the shadows the tall grass and trees provided and took the route that would bring him directly to the rear of the house. The front was too open for him to get close enough. Anyone would be able to see him from there. So, he would have to sneak around the house eventually.

He could not believe that Christine had tried to burn Raoul alive.

o.o.o.o

A few minutes after Erik's discovery, Madame Giry hears the news from a tired messenger. She doesn't believe her own ears. Christine burned Raoul's house to the ground, but what about the man. Did he make it out alive?

She could do nothing but wait anxiously for more news.

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Crazy huh! I didn't even see that one coming! Christine's just bad luck in this fic. Poor Raoul. Is he okay? We'll find out. Happy labor day!

So, five reviews for the next installment. Thanks to all those who reviewed so far. I appreciate it:o)


	12. Falling: Physically

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash fic.

Warning(s): homosexual content, slash!

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: SOOO Sorry… I know, I know, I haven't written for more than a week. It's been pretty bad lately. I live in Los Angeles so that black out didn't really help me any case, but beyond that I have no excuse.

Okay, this should be longer because I've had a week to work on it… technically more than a week. Hope you guys like it… House, MD season 2 starts!

You guys are really impatient to find out what's in that letter… come on, a little mystery is fun. I really am picking on Raoul though. I can't seem to help myself. As for Christine, one day, maybe one day I'll write her as a likeable character, but for now, I'm really annoyed with her.

o.o.o.o

Pass Time: Falling: Physically o-

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last Time: Christine burns Raoul's house down! Well, technically we don't know what quite happened there, but Raoul's house is on fire, we all know it's really Christine's fault anyway. Erik's rushing to the house, but he's still not close enough. Madame Giry knows what has happened and is waiting at the Opera House.

o.o.o.o

-.-

Erik ran faster, feeling the urgency of the situation. He was annoyed that he chose to take the path through the woods. It was slowing him down. He was reaching the point to where it no longer mattered who was able to see him. He just wanted to be at the house already and be with Raoul.

He cursed Raoul for having such a large estate and cursed his own stupidity for choosing the slower path. He redirected his path so that he could hit the driveway and be free of all the trees and shrubbery. Running just adjacent to the woods, he was able to see a figure running in the other direction.

He almost stopped dead in his tracks when he recognized it was Christine, but forced himself to deal with her later. He knew where she lived, and he had to make sure Raoul was okay, or at least alive. Her life depended on how the next moments of Erik's and Raoul's life together played out.

o.o.o.o

In the coldest voice Raoul could muster through his embarrassment and sadness, he replied, "Mademoiselle, I believe that you are the monster. You must be delusional since I have not done anything to you. Take your insane accusations and never step onto my estate again, whether or not I am on it. Good night."

Christine had turned her back to him. She pulled the coat tighter around her shoulders and rather calmly walked to pick up her lantern. She felt anger build within her. Raoul had no right to speak to her in such a manner. He had been her _fiancé_ for crying out loud. He was supposed to love her until their dying day. Instead, he insults her and kicks her off his property.

Her hands clenched unconsciously and it was only then that she realized she held the lantern in her hands. With a scream, she threw the lantern at Raoul with all her strength.

Raoul barely dodged the lantern that flew at his head. He threw himself on the floor just to avoid getting hit.

She was momentarily disappointed that she had missed and shocked that she had actually thrown the thing. She stared in dumb horror however when she saw flames rise up behind Raoul's prone body. Her limbs no longer listened to her. She knew she had to do something. She had to help put the fire out. The lantern she had thrown was the cause of it, and she needed to remedy it.

Raoul had quickly gotten up and opened his mouth to say something to her, but seeing her expression, he turned around to see the little candle have rolled out of the lantern and onto the curtain quickly setting it aflame. He looked around frantically for anything to put it out. There was no water in the room, so he reached over and flung over the part of the curtain that was not aflame to try and smother it.

However, it was too late. The fire wasn't dying, instead it was burning stronger. He turned around to tell Christine to get some water, only to have his eyes fall upon empty space.

Christine finally made her limbs listen to her, and she fled. She didn't want to be stuck in the Vicomte's house when it burned down. Christine no longer cared if she started it, Raoul would never be able to put it out. His futile attempt had assured her of that fact, and if it was all pointless, she had no reason to linger.

Turning, she ran as quickly as she could out of the house and down the driveway. So intent was she in fleeing, she failed to notice the black shadow that was running the opposite direction. Her mind was racing and yet surprisingly numb at the same time. All her thoughts told her to save herself, but it refused to let her remember from what she was fleeing.

She left his estate and faltered since she had told her carriage to leave. A sound from her left caught her attention. A horse! Without bothering to wonder _why_ a horse would be randomly tethered outside the Chagny estate, she climbed atop and rode to the opera house as quickly as the horse would allow.

Once in front of the opera house, her adrenaline finally faded. She lowered herself to the ground and looked around rather confusedly. Bringing her hand to her mouth, she suppressed the scream that threatened to be loosened from her throat. The truth became clear: she had burned down the Chagny household. She had burned it and left Raoul to fend for himself.

The horse wandered off.

Christine, not knowing what else to do, quietly entered the opera house and went towards her room. She stopped in front of the door. The rats would be inside waiting for her. Tears fell unnoticed down her face. She didn't know why she was crying. She only knew that everything had turned out so badly. Everything was so wrong.

She decided to not sleep in her own room that night, instead, she made her way to the chorus girls' dormitory. It would bring some comfort to her considering she had grown up in the dormitory. She slipped unobserved into the room and buried herself under the blankets of the vacant bed. She was frightened and worried, but her body could not take the stress any longer.

She fell asleep in hopes that she was already dreaming.

Raoul stared at the empty space only for a moment longer before turning back to the fire. The curtain was full ablaze and the fire was racing towards the furniture. The rug beneath his feet was threatening to catch fire soon. He tried in vain to stomp it out. There was nothing else to do. If he left to find water, the flame would have spread too much. In fact, he was starting to believe it was already too late.

He fell back when a piece of the curtain flew out and burned his arm. Clutching his arm to his chest on the floor, he tried to crawl away from the flame but his left pajama pant leg caught fire. Having no other recourse, he frantically used his hands to swat at the flames. He screamed in pain. He could feel his leg burning. He could feel the fire lick at his skin and muscle. He screamed louder.

Suddenly hands pulled him further from the flames and water was thrown on his leg.

Raoul turned around in appreciation. His vision blurred for a moment before seeing the familiar face of his butler (you thought it was going to be Erik, huh?). He saw that the other staff members except one were awake and trying put the fire out. It was still contained in the sitting room, so there had to be hope yet. Raoul tried to pull himself free from the butler's grasp, but failed.

Raoul missed the signal that one of the maids made to the butler. The others had been trying to put the flame out. The fire had spread to the furniture. Ironically enough, even the fireplace was aflame. They were barely able to stand on floor that wasn't in flames. Saving the house was a lost cause. The fire was spreading too quickly and it was about to cut off their only means of exit. The butler literally dragged the Vicomte out of the house, the others close at hand.

Finally, yards from the entryway, Raoul broke free from his grasp. The staff was about to grab onto him again, but seeing him stand there staring at his house, they let him be.

Raoul couldn't believe his eyes. His house, his home was burning to the ground. He suddenly had a very good idea of what Erik must have felt like seeing his opera house burn.

There were many things that Raoul could be grateful for at that moment. Though he was injured standing in his pajamas barefoot on his lawn, he was alive. His staff was fine. He even was mildly happy that Christine was fine. He only had one horse in the stable and he had already seen it and the other staff member that had been absent when he had been dragged out. Everything but his physical possessions was perfectly safe. Nothing truly had sentimental value in that house since most of it had been taken home with his mother… Raoul faltered. There was only one thing he treasured in that house.

Only one, and as he watched the flames spread slowly from room to room he took stock of how the fire had yet to reach the second floor. Without actually realizing it, Raoul sprinted back towards his house.

His butler made to follow, but the others held him back. Raoul was too fast and too far ahead to do much except kill oneself.

o.o.o.o

Erik arrived just in time to be relieved that Raoul's staff had the common sense to bring him outside. He stared at the blonde for a moment as the blonde stared at his home.

To say he was surprised when Raoul ran back towards the house would be an understatement, but thankfully, his muscles knew exactly what to do. He, too, broke into a run.

Raoul was unexpectedly fast, especially considering the fact that Erik _had_ noticed that his pant leg was burned off and the limb was bleeding. Still, Erik had to admire the Vicomte's tenacity and foolish courage when Raoul did not hesitate a bit upon entering the burning doorway.

Erik followed, using his arms to cover his face. The fire had consumed most of the first floor, and it was making its way upstairs. Erik briefly scanned the area, his body moving to get to areas with the least amount it heat. He was already sweating, the fire was so hot. Something caught his eye and he knew that Raoul had made his way up to the second floor.

Inwardly he groaned, but forced himself to not care if he felt like he was being cooked. He dodged as one of the support beams fell overhead. The house was falling apart, and quickly. He had to find Raoul before it was too late.

o.o.o.o

Raoul's leg was throbbing. His breathing was labored and he couldn't help but take deep gasping breaths as he ran. His mind was working on autopilot, which he was grateful for since he would have lost courage long ago.

He had raced the fire up the stairs. Banking right, he pushed ahead, ignoring all pain and entered the music room. It wasn't as hot on the second floor, but Raoul knew that would not last. The fire had been following him closely. He saw his violin and placed both it and the bow in its case. He clutched the case to his chest. He would not lose this instrument. It was his only connection to a happier time. He couldn't lose it, not to the fire and especially not to Christine.

Raoul was still gasping. He couldn't control his breathing and again his vision blurred. Everything was becoming hazy. The room was spinning. It created a dangerously beautiful affect as the red and orange of the fire left breathtaking trails in the air.

Raoul suddenly realized he was on the floor. He tried to get up since he could feel the fire closing in on him, but the room spun viciously when he tried.

He closed his eyes waiting for his end. It would be painful to be burned alive, but at least he wouldn't have to suffer any more. Erik was with Christine. Christine was with Erik. They were happy. Erik hated him. Erik loathed him. It hurt to breathe. Raoul wasn't sure if the constricting in his chest was because of his thoughts or because he had breathed in too much smoke.

Faintly he heard his name being called out.

Raoul smiled joyfully as he felt arms surround him. The angel of death had come to take him away, and oddly enough, it felt warm in those arms. It felt familiar, too. He felt safe and comforted, quite the opposite of what he had been expecting death to feel like.

He was starting to believe that it was all going to be fine now. Maybe death wasn't such a bad idea. He felt himself be lifted, subconsciously, he held on tighter to his case.

Erik finally found the Vicomte, and just in time, too. The fire had started to consume the second floor already and Raoul was in a room that had a lot of tinder. It looked to be part library part music room, if the piano in the corner was any indication. The door to the room had been on fire and Erik almost missed the body. He had to kick it out of the way quickly before entering; it swung with a creak of the hinges and the crackle of the terrible fire and almost swung back to hit him.

Erik could have sworn his heart stopped when he entered the room and saw Raoul lying prone on the floor. He called out his name, but received no response. Raoul looked at his general direction for a moment before his eyes rolled back into his head.

He would have to worry about it later though. After checking that the blonde was breathing and had a pulse, Erik had to decide what to do. The first step would be to find a way out of the house. The stairs were out of the question. Coming up had been bad since the fire had just started on it, but going down, would be deadly.

Erik easily lifted the blonde into his arms and belatedly noticed the case in his arms. Dismissing the confusion for a moment, he surveyed the room. There was a window, but they were on the second floor. He was certain he could jump it without being hurt, but that was only by himself. With the Vicomte in his arms, he wouldn't be able to get them both out of it unscathed. There was a tree, but how to maneuver holding Raoul and climbing down?

Turning around, he instead made for the door to look for another exit when the door itself finally fell off its hinges and collapsed directly in front of the doorway. Erik considered kicking it out of the way for a moment, but the bookshelf to his left suddenly collapsed to the floor, spreading tiny bits of tinder from the books into the air and towards them. He turned to protect Raoul, but did not have anything to cover his own face. He was suddenly thankful that he wore a mask or else he would have been burned badly.

The fire was only getting closer. They were stuck. The only way out was the window. Erik did not want to wait to see how close the fire could burn him. He was sweating already and Raoul was breaking out into a cold sweat. If his wounds weren't attended to soon, they might have to amputate his leg.

Erik adjusted his hold on the blonde and moved to the window. The fire was too close. They would be burned alive if they didn't leave the room now.

Bookshelves were falling left and right. Every time one fell, it would shower them with burning bits of paper. Erik had to pat out a fire that had started on his own shoulder, which had been a feat since he didn't want to put Raoul down.

There was no choice. Erik held tightly to Raoul and ran for the window. Getting out was his biggest concern. Unfortunately, the window was not the kind that opened. He covered Raoul with his own body the best he could and jumped through it instead.

The tree. He had to reach and try to grab onto the tree. A two-story drop could be fatal, and knowing his luck, Erik would kill Raoul. The glass shards cut, and he did his best to protect Raoul, but knew the Vicomte would sustain cuts. Erik held onto the blonde tightly with his right arm as he reached out blindly with his left. He needed to catch a branch from that tree. He needed to in order to save their lives.

o.o.o.o (what a crappy place to cut it off!)

Madame Giry paced in her room. Meg had gone to sleep though reluctantly in the girls' dormitory.

She needed to know what happened. Raoul's house was on fire and yet she could not go for herself to see. It would raise too many questions. She should turn Christine in to the police, but how would she be able to prove it?

In fact, Madame Giry stopped pacing and taking a candle, left her room heading towards Christine's. Reaching it, she didn't bother to knock and rather just entered the room. Even in the dimness that that candle provided, she could tell that Christine had not returned.

She was starting to feel desperate. The Vicomte hadn't been a bad person. In fact, Madame Giry had come to like him at the end. She had hoped he wouldn't be killed by Erik even though at the same time hoped he wouldn't kill Erik. The blonde was so naïve but good intentioned. She didn't want anything to happen to him especially by Christine's hand. The girl had betrayed both the men in her life. It had been a cruel twist of fate for her to have two suitors who had wanted her love when all she could give were empty words.

She left Christine's room and wandered the halls. She didn't know what to do with that child. Christine was changing and there was nothing Madame Giry could do to keep her on the right track. These actions were either malicious deeds or just plain idiotic compulsiveness. Madame Giry hoped it was the latter, that she could handle.

A thought hit her. Maybe… she tried to stop the idea before it continued and gave her hope. Maybe she could convince Erik to go and check for her. Raoul had tried to offer a peace offering. Maybe Erik would consider trying to return the favor.

Madame Giry walked purposefully to where the organ was last seen. Maybe Erik was still moving it. Upon arriving backstage, she was rather surprised to see that it was still sitting in the exact same spot she had last seen it. After the news that Christine had been acting strangely, she figured that the Phantom would take the organ downstairs and begin to play again. The happenings that occurred in the opera house were his business but she thought Christine would be too delicate a topic for him, even though she concluded that Erik _had_ been the one to place the rats in her room.

She walked to the organ and checked all the shadows. She didn't want to call out to him for fear that someone might ask why she's doing so. Erik always had a way of answering unanswered calls anyway.

She abandoned her search for the Phantom and gave into the urge to check in on Meg. Sometimes she was happy that she only had one child and often wondered why it felt like she always had more.

o.o.o.o (back to the good stuff, couldn't leave you hanging. TT bad pun)

Erik almost lost hope of reaching the tree until his left wrist rather violently hit a branch. He stifled a scream and forced his fingers to grab on even though the nerves were jarred. His left shoulder almost wrenched from its socket. Erik felt his free fall stop suddenly and he held onto Raoul's waist as tightly as he could. Raoul was dangling from his grasp but to his surprise, the case that the Vicomte carried was still held on tightly. At least he knew that the blonde still had some fight in him yet.

Erik gasped for air. His left arm was going numb and his chest hurt.

He looked down toward the floor to see that they hadn't fallen very far. Not far enough to ensure a wholly safe landing, just a little below second story height. It shouldn't be so bad, but Raoul was in no position to land gracefully.

Erik closed his eyes for moment trying to gauge whether he could pull them both up onto the tree branch. He could still feel the heat on his back from the house. His breaths had yet to slow, but that was the least of his worries.

He distractedly wondered why Christine would burn down the house and what he would do to get his revenge…

Mid-distraction his already numb fingers gave and they both continued their plummet to the earth.

Erik managed to twist their bodies so that he would take the grunt of the impact. His back falling towards the floor at an alarming rate, he held on tighter to Raoul making sure that the only thing Raoul would feel was the force that made its way first through his body. Raoul would be fine. Erik knew that much.

Just as he felt a smile begin from the thought, his fall abruptly ended. The impact was shocking. He hadn't landed directly on his spine, which he was sure he would be thankful for some time later, but right now, all he could feel was the pain radiating from his back, traveling to his limbs, and going back again. His back protested and his head began pounding loudly. He couldn't move his limbs the way he wanted and Raoul rolled out of his embrace.

Erik knew they couldn't stay there. The house was too close and the fire still a danger. He had to move. He forced the pain away. He breathed heavily. The smoke made him want to cough, but when he did, he saw blood come out as well.

"Monsieur Chagny," Erik could hear the faint voice and the footsteps come nearer.

Panic rose and he finally found the strength to get up. He now knew that Raoul would be safe. His staff would come and take him to safety, to get medical attention.

Erik got to his feet and almost fell down again. His head hurt and he couldn't see straight. He couldn't breathe properly and he was trying to stop the cough that threatened to escape. He had no time to cough out blood. He weaved on his feet but somehow moved fast enough so that he could turn the corner of the house to hide.

He forced his legs to listen no matter how hard it was. He needed to hide. Turning the corner only meant he couldn't be seen for a short while. They would investigate since Erik was certain they had seen him follow Raoul into the house.

The voices were near.

Erik pushed his body to its limits. He made it into the woods but his body shut down. He stumbled over some bushes and fell to the grass in a heap with the hope in his heart that they wouldn't find him.

Footsteps came dangerously near his spot by the bushes, but whoever it was had been called back. Fire fighters had finally arrived and were in the process of trying to contain the fire.

Somewhere in his mind, Erik knew he should move away from the burning building, but he just wanted to rest. After a few fitful coughs of blood, Erik knew nothing but oblivion.

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

That wasn't much longer, was it? Sorry. o.O Technically it _was_, but not really. I couldn't just well start the next installment though. This would have to be the perfect place to stop it. Erik's on the verge of dying and Raoul might lose a leg. How much more drama do you want? Don't worry I haven't forgotten about the letter, but currently Erik has since of all this excitement.

Sorry for any typos, I tried to reread but kept getting bothered. I spell checked it though (if that's any consolation)

So, five reviews for the next installment. Thanks to all those who reviewed so far. I appreciate it:o)


	13. Recovery

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash fic.

Warning(s): homosexual content, slash!

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: Just re-read the last chapter… I found a typo… "He just as he felt a smile begin from the thought, his fall abruptly ended." Should actually be without the first he… that was random. So, sorry about that… I'm going to fix it, but only when I post this chapter up so I don't confuse anyone and don't raise any hopes, so sorry about that. Spell check didn't seem to catch that one. :o(

Sorry again for the long waits sometimes… I'm just getting into the groove of working and writing, so it's taking more time than I'd like… than you'd like too I'm sure.

Intro to new character, I didn't want to add some random character, but Henri will help some with the plot. He'll help a lot actually.

o.o.o.o

Pass Time: Recovery o-

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last Time: Christine ditched Raoul in his time of need and is currently back at the Opera House. Madame Giry wonders where Erik has gone to and hopes Raoul is fine. Raoul was first saved by his staff and then later by Erik in his attempt to save his beloved violin. Erik plays the white knight, saves Raoul, but was terribly injured in the process (falling out of a tree can be pretty bad).

o.o.o.o

-.-

Madame Giry entered the girls' dormitory quietly. She walked to Meg's bed to assuage her own worries, but she passed a bed that she knew should be currently vacant, occupied. She walked closer to the bed and narrowed her eyes when she saw that it was Christine.

She hovered uncertainly between waking her up and letting her sleep.

Instead, she had a random and quite unexpected inspiration and immediately knew who could help her. Christine would be spared from Madame Giry's wrath tonight by pure luck.

Madame Giry spared a glance at Meg who slept on peacefully, and then she exited the room quickly and wondered why she hadn't thought of it before. If Raoul were here, then Andre and Firmin would want to know. The Vicomte _had _been the patron for the Opera Populaire. They might want more of his money since she couldn't really imagine them helping for any other reason.

She went out of her way to wake one of the stage boys from his slumber and told him to tell the managers to go to the Chagny estate. The young boy looked at her through sleepy eyes and almost went back to sleep, but a prod and hard response woke him up.

It was nearly morning. The night had truly been long.

o.o.o.o

The butler, Henri (just because I'm sick of calling him 'the butler'), grabbed Raoul's arm while another staff member grabbed the other. A maid retrieved the case. Together they carried Raoul away from the still burning household.

The fire fighters had taken long enough to arrive, but they were working very quickly to try to contain it to only the building.

The staff hadn't seen exactly what happened, but Henri and the others had run toward the house some time after Raoul and the mysterious man they saw. All they knew was that Raoul had managed to get out. Henri had his suspicions that the mystery man had really saved the Vicomte, but he would worry about that later.

Raoul was still unconscious. Pulling him away from the smoke was the only thing they could think to do, so they all walked to the very border of the estate near the entrance. The medic with the fire fighters had cleaned Raoul's wounds, various cuts from the glass but more importantly, he put salve on Raoul's left leg and arm where the fire had caused the most bodily damage. Henri was glad Raoul was asleep since the medic had to pull off the dead skin that had been burned too badly. Raoul even twitched in his unconscious state it was so painful. He told the staff that Raoul's leg and arm would heal as long as they kept the wounds clean and applied the salve everyday to prevent infection. He said that the fever would eventually go away with rest and food.

Not knowing what else to do, they let Raoul sleep on as they watched the fire fighters battle the flames. Their home had been destroyed.

Everyone turned around suddenly when Raoul started coughing violently.

"Where?" He barely gasped out. "Where am I?"

They all gathered around him. Henri was the first to speak up, "You're still home… in front of the entrance gates."

Raoul slowly sat up. It hurt to move. His leg and arm were throbbing and his throat was screaming in protest whenever he tried to breathe. He looked down to see that he had bandages on said appendages. Everything that had happened came rushing back at him. "The fire," he still couldn't speak above a whisper no matter how hard he tried.

"Shh," Henri coaxed, "You shouldn't be talking. The medic said you breathed in too much smoke and you may lose your voice for a while. Those same fire fighters are trying to put out the flames. It's been contained in the main building, so the property around should be fine."

That was good news in the end. Still, Raoul looked at the burning house mournfully. Everyone came out fine. He looked around frantically when he realized what he was missing. One of the maids noticing his search, handed him his violin case. Sighing, Raoul tried to smile his thanks, but he was fairly certain it came out as a grimace.

Raoul remembered running in, but he couldn't remember how he got out. In fact, he remembered the angel of death coming to take him away. He tried asking what happened, but this time no sound came out. He tried harder, but it only hurt him more. Henri and the others forced him to lie back down.

He felt helpless. He could hear the shouts of the fire fighters talking to each other and the crackle of the fire, but beyond that, the night was quiet. It gave him time to think. Everything had fallen apart in two days. Though technically, it would be morning so maybe it was three days. He had managed to live a relatively fulfilling life the months that the opera house had been being reconstructed (not quite rebuilt since it was mostly only cosmetic in the other wings, save for the main auditorium). Relatively fulfilling because anything was better than that time when he hadn't wanted to move at all.

He had almost fooled himself into thinking that his plan would work. He would rebuild the opera house… what had been his plan? For certain, he knew he couldn't leave. He understood that much. Oh yeah, he had just wanted to be near to him, to Erik. He thought that he could live knowing Erik didn't love him as long as he could just pretend. He had proved himself wrong on that count. He couldn't pretend. It hurt so much more to be near and not be able to believe.

His thoughts were making its way through a familiar rut in his mind: Erik had Christine. Christine had Erik.

Those thoughts were cut short when he heard a carriage pull up to his gate. He turned his head to look.

Andre and Firmin approached rapidly, concern written on their faces.

Raoul tried to sit up, and he would've fallen back down had it not been for Henri who steadied him.

"Monsieur Vicomte," Firmin stared at the almost put out flames, "Are you okay? Whatever happened?"

Raoul looked at Henri exasperatedly when he tried to speak and nothing came out.

Speaking on his behalf, Henri began, "The Vicomte has breathed in too much smoke and currently cannot talk. Other than burns and cuts, Monsieur is still alive. As for what happened…"

Henri paused briefly when he saw Raoul shake his head almost imperceptibly.

"Some thief broke into our house and in his panic when the Vicomte found him, he tried to burn the house down."

Andre and Firmin looked at Raoul in confirmation. Raoul nodded though he really wanted to look at Henri in confirmation. He never realized how creative his butler was. That was quite the fabrication and he would have said so, but was unable. It made more sense than saying it was an accident. That would have made them look like fools.

Andre spoke up, "That's terrible. We heard about it from Madame Giry who said she heard it from a messenger who happened to pass by. Firmin and I were talking about it on the carriage ride over and we would like to offer the Opera Populaire as shelter for as long as you wish. You and your staff of course."

Raoul stared at the managers in utter disbelief. The idea was insane. He couldn't. He just couldn't. That would mean that _they_ would all be living under the same roof. They being him, Erik, and Christine. He couldn't. Not when Christine had said that she would tell Erik to hurt him. Her words had actually been "he will make you regret it" – it being, stepping inside the opera house, and then something like "Erik will have his way with you" – which if Raoul had been more _innocent,_ would have been a more effective and frightening threat.

Before he could even respond, Henri spoke up instead, "Monsieurs, thank you very much for your generosity. Our house is gone and we have nowhere else in Paris to go. We'd like to accept your offer."

Raoul looked at Henri indignantly, but the older man didn't look fazed at all.

The managers looked to Raoul in confirmation, just missing the look Raoul had given to his butler. The blonde nodded, albeit reluctantly. They had no other choice.

He could just feel the premonition of trouble.

"Good. We can still actually keep your presence a secret," Andre continued.

The blonde highly doubted that could occur. News in the opera house spread more quickly than the fire had spread in his house. Raoul gauged that comparison in his head for a moment. He shouldn't be able to make light of the situation so quickly, yet he was. He looked at the house and realized it was not home… home was the house by the sea, it was the staff he had around him, and it was being around the people you loved. The house could be forgotten. He would still never forgive Christine for burning down his house, though if he were honest with himself, he would have never been able to forgive her even before the fire since she had stolen Erik from him. Technically, Erik wasn't his, but she should've have left him alone nonetheless. She was bad news for them both.

Raoul almost missed when Firmin explained it, "There's the old wing of the opera house, more like a long hallway on a floor not many people visit, that we now use for small props since our performers and workers are too superstitious and wanted to sleep elsewhere. No one goes there in fear of the Phantom of the Opera," Firmin rushed to explain, "However, that area is as safe as any other part of the opera house."

He wanted to just place his head in his hands and cry, that or scream aloud in frustration. He did neither. It was _as safe_, that opera house wasn't safe at all, but Raoul couldn't even remark on that fact. This situation was just all wrong. It was wrong in so many ways Raoul could not believe he was going to go along with it. He would be staying in an empty hallway, empty floor that was often 'haunted' by the Phantom of the Opera.

Raoul hoped against hope that it was pure superstition, but any place within Opera Populaire's walls would be dangerous. He had no other choice though. The weather would be turning more fierce as winter approached and they truly had no other place to stay. They could leave Paris… Raoul knew he couldn't. He couldn't leave everything behind.

Raoul was pulled out of his thoughts when he was helped to his feet, or rather foot and limped to the waiting carriage with the help of the managers. They managed to fit everyone except Henri and the grounds keep into the carriage since Raoul needed more space.

They left, but before Firmin entered the carriage, Henri asked that he send Madame Giry back with the carriage to pick him up. Firmin stared at the butler in confusion for a moment before nodding his head.

The grounds keep offered to stay, but Henri insisted that he just take the horse and ride alongside to make sure nothing else happened. He agreed and Henri was left on the Chagny estate with nothing but the burned house and the busy firefighters. He sat down, tired after the night they'd had.

o.o.o.o

Madame Giry was surprised when Raoul arrived bandaged up in just his pajamas, but that was actually eclipsed when she was told by Firmin to go back with the carriage to pick up the butler who they had had to leave on the Chagny estate.

She hadn't wanted to leave because she wanted to make sure nothing happened to Raoul. The phantom had seemed pleased with the new organ, but one never knew with Erik. He had very fickle moods and the Vicomte's safety was in the forefront of her mind. After Christine's attack, she didn't want him to have to face another confrontation.

Instead, she hoped Erik would leave him be for the night and rode the carriage and returned to the estate.

When she arrived, the gate was open and no butler in sight. The estate was eerily quiet, since the fire had been put out and the fire fighters had subsequently left. She told the driver to pull the carriage up to the house.

Madame Giry saw an elderly gentleman exit the house just as the carriage pulled up.

Helping Madame Giry down, he introduced himself, "Good morning, Madame. I am the Vicomte's butler, Henri. I have asked you to come here to ask you some questions and show you something."

o.o.o.o

Raoul held the violin case close to him as the rest of his staff followed closely behind. Luckily, no one had been up. He leaned heavily on his grounds keep though he tried to walk by himself. His wounds were bothering him, but he was too overwhelmed at the moment to really complain. Andre and Firmin were showing them the way to their temporary rooms. The hallways were still dark in the pre-morning darkness since no candles had been lit since the area was being used as storage.

Unfortunately, Raoul knew these hallways well. The first time he had been here flashed in his mind. Little Lotte and that mysterious voice in the room. That had been the first time since they had been children that Raoul and Christine were brought together. That had been the first time he had seen an opera in the Opera Populaire. That had been the first time he had known Erik existed.

So lost in his memories, the blonde almost lost his balance when they stopped in front of Christine's old room.

Firmin noted, "This is the best room in this area. It should be yours," Firmin waited until Raoul entered. The Vicomte didn't want to stay in this room, but to say otherwise would bring up questions, where else would he stay? And maybe, in some twisted rational in his own mind, this would be the last place Erik would look for him.

Once everyone was inside the room, in some odd sort of tour, Andre spoke, "Everything you need should be inside and if it isn't you may just ask it from me or Firmin and we will see to it immediately."

Raoul looked around the room. It would seem that Christine's room had yet to be used for storage. Everything was neatly in its place, and save for the white sheets over all the furniture and the dust one would think it had just been prepared.

Andre continued, "Your staff may choose any of the other rooms here. Not all of them have been used for storage yet, so it shouldn't be too hard to find an appropriate room."

"If that is all," Firmin looked questioningly, "we shall allow you to settle in and get some sleep since I'm certain the night has been quite long."

The managers took their leave, and Raoul stood in the middle of the room assuring his staff that he was fine. They left him with a single candle and his violin.

The door to the room clicked shut.

Raoul surveyed the room. It looked exactly the same. He could almost imagine that first night. He had been so excited to see Christine. To imagine a childhood friend in a new city. It had truly been exciting. He cared for her dearly, but how times change. She had changed much, and Raoul figured he had too. He limped over to the bed and placed his violin bedside. He pulled the sheet off and let it haphazardly fall to the floor. He could worry about that later. Raoul finally let his body rest as he laid down. It had been a long night and he could feel his body heating up from the fever.

Before sleeping, he cast a scared and hopeful look at the sheet that he knew to cover the mirror.

He wasn't sure if he wanted Erik to leave him completely alone until they could fix his house or if he wanted to see him. He hoped beyond hope that everything would turn out okay.

o.o.o.o

Erik woke up slowly and painfully.

Candles were lit in the room and he pulled the blanket over his head.

Erik froze. Blanket? Candles?

He didn't want to move because it hurt to just breathe, but last he remembered, he had crawled into some bushes to hide from Raoul's staff. Now, if the comfort he faintly recognized as a bed meant he was in a room somewhere, then he forced himself to open his eyes and look around him. He tried to sit up but a hand forcefully kept him down.

"What?"

The lights were so bright to his eyes.

"Don't move." A stern voice commanded.

Like Erik would listen to some random voice, he tried to sit up again. The hand was still there to hold him down. He didn't want to admit it, but he didn't think he could get up if he tried.

"Don't move, Erik."

He finally recognized who had spoken, Madame Giry.

She continued, "You have a few broken ribs and you sprained your left wrist badly."

Erik lay back down, closing his eyes. He was alive and safe. He felt his body relax; that little tension had tired him out completely. He was alive. It was unbelievable in his opinion. He moved his legs to a better position and wiggled his toes for the sake of knowing that he could still feel them. He wasn't paralyzed. He had considered the fact that he had been able to get away a good sign that he hadn't broken his back, but to be absolutely certain was a relief.

"How did I get here?" Erik asked, since asking about Raoul would surely give away his current predicament with his emotions.

Madame Giry looked at him. She had been shocked when Henri had showed her his body. She had thought he was dead. There was blood on his clothes and on the floor. Not a lot, but it had been blood. Henri had told her what really happened that night. He concluded with his assumption that Erik had indeed saved Raoul's life after he ran back into the house.

Madame Giry was certain that no present, no organ could buy Erik's protection. She wondered what _had _happened that night underneath the opera house when everyone thought that both Raoul and Erik would be dead by morning, yet neither was. Erik was hiding something. He saved Raoul at the risk of his own life. Madame Giry had never thought she'd seen the day that occurred. Erik took risks. He even took some risks with Christine, but they were all calculated. All calculated with a contingency plan. Running into a burning building to save a Vicomte that should be your enemy was not a calculated risk.

"Madame Giry?" Erik enquired, wondering if she was going to answer. He didn't bother to move though. It hurt too much.

"Sorry," Madame Giry replied. She had been so lost in trying to figure out the relationship between Erik and Raoul. She remembered that Henri had wanted to keep his part in the second rescue a secret. It made sense since Erik would probably overreact about someone else having been there when he had been so vulnerable, "I went to the Chagny estate to look for Christine. I arrived after everyone else left and was walking around when you groaned. So, I hid you in my carriage and brought you back to my room to recover."

Erik wanted to ask about Raoul. He knew that Madame Giry would wonder why he had gone to the Chagny estate. The woman wasn't stupid. She would figure out that he had tried to save Raoul. He could've done a better job. He not only hurt himself, he almost killed Raoul. The guilt of hurting the blonde cast a damper on his already somber mood. He had sworn he would protect him from harm, and he had failed. The boy lost his house and almost lost his life. Where would he stay now? He probably had other friends' houses to stay at except for the fact that everyone thought he had left Paris. Would he leave Paris this time? Was this the last event that would run him away?

Erik felt murderous rage towards Christine and if it didn't hurt so much when he tensed, he would have stayed angry. Instead, the phantom calmed down to a sullen mood. He wanted to know what had happened after he had passed out. Who to ask though? Madame Giry was his best bet, but she would ask too many questions. On the other hand, she already knew too much.

"Go to sleep, Erik. Your ribs will only get better if you rest. No moving for at least a week, and then we'll see how well you're healing," Madame Giry stood up to leave. Before closing the door, she commented, "Raoul is fine. He has been taken in by some friends."

She was surprised to see the faint smile on his face, then left to check on Raoul.

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

There's something you should remember that occurs in chapter 5 that'll come into play later on. You'll figure out what it is pretty easily.

You know, I was looking through the stats on how many people go to my story and either the first chapter sucks a lot or people don't realize it's slash because chapter 1 has like 300+ hits while chapter 2 barely has 150… hmm… I'm trying to figure more ways to get reviews because just to make my life easier I might ask for 10 reviews instead of 5, but meh, it doesn't really matter in the end. 5 or 10, _I_ need to finish this story because I want to know what happens next. Sometimes I reread the whole thing and I'm like when the hell is the next chapter going to come out, and when I realize I'm like _damn_ I need to start writing again. Still though…

Thanks for the constant support with the reviews. I appreciate it, and it makes me want to write faster (though sometimes it doesn't work that well sheepish shrug)

So, ten reviews for the next installment – wow, that's really reaching, but meh, enough people read it (unless you fanatics re-read numerous chapters over and over, which I doubt). Let's see how that works… if it doesn't, then I'll just post after my usual quota. Thanks to all those who reviewed so far. I appreciate it:o)


	14. Inquiring Minds

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash fic.

Warning(s): homosexual content, slash!

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: Don't kill me please! I'm trying so hard to keep writing. I really am, but surprisingly enough. It's taking a very long time. But, the story is unraveling though slowly. Thanks for everyone who have reviewed and who have managed to remain interested in my story. I'm so sorry still! Why? Well, because I will remain sorry until I finish this story completely. It's taking me entirely too long to do so.

Oh, yeah. Christine's a total prat in this still.

o.o.o.o

Pass Time: Inquiring Minds o-

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last Time: Erik saves Raoul's life after he ran into the house to save his violin, though Erik feels like he's failed the Vicomte since he's lost his home. Madame Giry sends the managers to the Chagny estate and they offer him shelter. Erik's in bed rest at least for a week. Raoul's sick and injured. They'll both live with full mobility though. :o) (I can't be that sadistic. I want them to get together; I'm with Erik with his happy ending theory). So, now Erik, Christine, and Raoul all live under the same roof. Madness ensues…

o.o.o.o

-.-

Christine woke up to the familiar morning sounds of the girls' dormitory. However, unfamiliarly, someone was shaking her and quite hard too.

"Christine, wake up now!" Meg sounded exasperated.

She wanted nothing more to do than turn over and continue sleeping. She hadn't slept well at all last night. 'Oh shit,' her thought resounded in her head. She hadn't slept well wasn't really the case because she hadn't slept much. Christine opened her eyes, wide awake.

Last night was a nightmare, had to be, but the look on Meg's face and the excited whispers the other girls were speaking in said otherwise. Christine caught snatches of conversation as it circled about her. She closed her eyes in an effort to shut them all out.

"Can you believe it? The Chagny estate burned down."

"Really? Who saw?"

"One of the stage hands had to go to Andre and Firmin."

"What of the Vicomte?"

"I've heard nothing. I thought he was out of town."

"He was supposed to be, but why would the managers need to go."

"Well, to show support of the staff that was still there of course. If the Vicomte ever came back again, they would put in a good word for the managers."

Meg started shaking her again. Christine moaned and sat up.

"I'm awake, Meg," Christine said.

Meg glared at her. It was actually frightening how similar to her mother she could be with just one look. "We need to talk. Meet me on stage in a few." She said simply before leaving the room. Meg was already dressed and ready for the day's practice.

Christine on the other hand, couldn't even think of a whole day's work of practice. She was too exhausted.

o.o.o.o

Madame Giry stood off stage pondering the events of last night.

She had visited Raoul early in the morning. His fever was going down with the help of Henri who had stayed bedside with a cool cloth. Raoul was certain to be up today already.

The managers had requested that she bring him food. She had been affronted at first considering that it was not her job to be a servant to the Vicomte, but considering that no one else knew that the Vicomte was living in the opera house, they really had no other choice. No need to alert everyone in the opera house of the new living situation. The managers _could_ do it themselves, but that seemed like so much more work. So, the job fell to Madame Giry.

It was better that she would bring the food. She could actually show Henri and he would be able to, but it would give her a reason to check on Raoul on a daily basis. She would have done so without needing a reason but at least now, she had a good excuse. Madame Giry was entirely intrigued about the whole situation between Erik and Raoul. She was in good authority to believe that the Vicomte was more likely to give her the information she needed to unravel the secret than Erik was.

Erik had still been asleep when she left the room in the morning. It had surprised her. Erik was such a light sleeper she was both amused and worried when he did not even stir at her movements. He was more injured than he let on, or at least he was feeling the pain more.

She hadn't told Erik that Raoul was staying at the opera house. She hadn't planned to _not_ tell him, but her instincts had told her to keep it a secret. He would learn about it eventually.

The man had saved Raoul's life. That was wholly unexpected. Erik had never saved a life in his entire existence, not that she knew of. There was something very big happening between the two. First, Raoul sends Erik an organ. Then, Erik saves Raoul's life. It could be that Erik was _really_ glad to have an organ, but that couldn't be the reason. At least not the only reason.

Madame Giry had to force those thoughts aside though as she brought her girls to attention. The day seemed too long already.

Meg was the first in line and looked a bit annoyed as she searched the stage for Christine. Christine had taken her time getting dressed and ready this morning so that Meg had yet to speak with the girl. She presumed that Christine did it intentionally.

She had of course. Christine wanted to avoid the conversation with Meg as long as possible, or at least until she understood it well enough herself. She didn't want to fully admit to what had happened the night before. She didn't even know what had possessed her to do such things. She would practice with the prima donna Carlotta and the director regarding her stage directions and such. It would provide a good distraction.

Meg would be mad at her, but at least Meg wouldn't be able to get to her until the end of the day since the ballet girls always had longer days than the singers. Christine hoped that she could hide from her at least well into the evening.

o.o.o.o

Raoul woke up slowly. He hurt. Not even just a localized pain. He hurt in general, overall. He just hurt. He moaned and rolled over. Henri had left earlier that morning. He remembered because he had woken up in the middle of his inspection. His butler had forced him to take some medicine and he had been checking Raoul's wounds. They hurt horribly, and what he did see of them, they looked really bad.

He figured it was a good thing his leg hurt though, that meant he wouldn't lose it. His arm and hands were also wrapped from the lesser burns he received, but he could mostly ignore that particular pain.

Raoul looked around the room carefully, worried that the phantom could be lurking nearby. He wondered how the other man would take the fact that he was living in the opera house. _His_ opera house. According to Christine, Erik wouldn't take the news too kindly. The blonde sighed. If only he weren't so attached to the man, if only he had never met him... life would have been less complicated. But Raoul had to admit he'd never loved someone so much. He allowed the thought to go unchecked only because his near death experience had really shaken him. He had somehow been spared and for just a bit, he could allow himself to relish in the feeling of simply being able to love someone so much. He was uncertain as to how he had escaped that burning building. He could faintly recall seeing a shadow before he passed out, but anything after that was a mystery. His first thought on that subject was that it had to be the Phantom. However, Erik loved Christine and no matter how much Raoul loved him, he couldn't hope for the man to love him back. Wishful thinking on his part.

He did not intend to let those thoughts leave the room though. Once he was better, Raoul would go back to denying his reactions to Erik. He would deny ever being so vulnerable to the man that possibly wanted to hurt him the most. And hurt him he did. He wanted to believe he had a chance, but Christine had dashed his hopes. So for now, he had his dreams to keep him company.

He wondered briefly how Christine was doing. He had found out that Madame Giry had been the one to contact Andre and Firmin, so that meant that Christine didn't do it. Raoul wondered if she even bothered to try to help him. He winced slightly when he made a fist in anger. That woman would be the death of him. He wanted to get her back for burning down his house but what to do exactly was beyond his imagination. He wanted a good plan of revenge.

At that precise moment though, what he really wanted to do was leave the room. Too many memories made the enclosure feel suffocating. He couldn't help but feel a little like Christine in this room: wondering whether the Phantom was nearby, yearning for his presence, his voice. He couldn't go outside though. He couldn't even leave the room. Mostly because of his injuries but also because Henri and Madame Giry would have a fit if he was seen outside his room. It was supposed to be a secret that he was living in the opera house. He had no intention being found out so soon. Considering the repercussions, and definitely considering the fact that he was not fully healed to protect himself.

However, that left him nothing to do. He couldn't even pace. He could sit up, but once sitting he had nothing else to do.

Raoul looked around the room helplessly. Though tired still, he was already feeling restless. He closed his eyes and buried himself deeper into the bed. Sleeping was the last option he wanted to accept, but it was really the _only_ option left for him. He felt a little hot from the fever last night and his body felt really heavy.

He smiled slightly when he realized he could faintly hear the performers practicing. He could hear the orchestra clearly if he listened hard enough.

Music. It was beautiful. He could feel his whole body relaxing. He thought to pick up his violin and join in; hopefully, no one would notice. He felt his eyes closing however. He allowed his body to rest deciding to take a well-deserved nap before lunch. Then, he could see if his hands and arm would allow him to be able to play the violin.

o.o.o.o

Come lunchtime, Madame Giry decided to give the girls the rest of the day off. They had been surprised, but no one bothered to question her actions.

Madame Giry had her own reasons, and the biggest of which included to reveal the events after the Don Juan Triumphant fiasco. She arrived at her room and was surprised to see Erik in the exact same position as she had left him. She placed a hand on the Phantom's forehead but it was not warm.

"Erik," she whispered. Receiving no response, Madame Giry checked for a pulse. She was relieved when she felt a steady beat under her fingers.

Allowing Erik to rest and as quietly as she could, she left food bedside for Erik if he awoke and prepared lunch for the Vicomte before leaving the room.

Madame Giry made her way towards the once abandoned hallway towards Raoul's room. Most of the trip was spent looking over her shoulder but she arrived unseen by any other, for which she was glad.

She knocked on Raoul's door quietly and was surprised when it opened. Henri bowed his head slightly before taking the tray from her hands and allowing her entrance. She looked at the room in slight astonishment. No one would have guessed that the room had been used as storage just yesterday. Everything was sparkling clean and any feminine touches had been taken away.

"Thank you for bringing him food," Henri said while closing the door firmly behind her. He offered her one of the two seats beside, which she took. He continued to speak, "The Vicomte has been sleeping since the morning, but his fever has left. It must have been the shock of his injuries."

He gestured faintly towards the bed. On the bed, you could only see the back of Raoul's head as he slept facing away from the doorway.

Madame Giry looked at the butler questioningly for a moment. "I thought all of his staff had gone out?"

Henri nodded, placing the tray on the bedside table. He sat opposite to Madame Giry. "We appreciate you and your managers' hospitality. The others left for the market to buy supplies and check on the household. I myself came back earlier if the Vicomte was in need of something. The others will come back shortly. I am certain that we will find a place to stay in no time."

"It is quite alright," Madame Giry interjected, "You should stay here as long as you need. But, has any of the others of this opera house given you trouble or suspect anything?"

"No, not at all, Madame. We all left quite early in the morning and coming back no one took notice."

Madame Giry was relieved. She was worried they would be found out immediately, but luck was on their side. "As I was saying. You may stay here as long as necessary. You needn't rush to find lodging elsewhere."

Before Henri could answer, Raoul groaned and started to shift in the bed. A mumbled "Henri" was heard.

"Yes, Vicomte?" Henri answered walking bedside.

Raoul whispered hoarsely, "Is that Madame Giry you're talking to?" Vicomte slowly turned around, eyes not quite fully open.

"Yes. Madame has brought you lunch."

Raoul sat up in the bed with much effort before smiling to Madame Giry in appreciation. He cleared his throat and was happy to find that he could speak normally, "Thank you for your hospitality though I find that my hunger has not fully returned yet."

Henri ignored Raoul's statement and handed him a piece of bread. Raoul made a face at his butler but Henri gave him no choice, whispering only loud enough for Raoul to hear, "If you do not take this bread yourself, I will have to feed it to you _myself_."

Raoul smiled sheepishly at Madame Giry before taking the bread and grudgingly taking a bite.

Madame Giry watched the exchange in fascination. It was not as she expected. More to the effect that Raoul was not as she expected. She had thought him to be a spoiled, selfish noble. She expected him to order Henri and the others around without regard to the fact that they were people as well. In that exchange, though she had not heard the words spoken by Henri, she could guess at what he said. The Vicomte was gaining her favor.

Looking satisfied, Henri sat back down.

Raoul pouted for a moment before remembering Madame Giry was present. He cleared his throat again, a light blush showing on his cheeks, "I would like to extend my appreciation to you. I heard that you sent Andre and Firmin to my household. I don't know quite what we would have done if the managers hadn't offered us lodging. We are indebted to you."

Madame Giry smiled, "You are in debt to no one," she paused considering something for a moment, "though I would like to ask you a favor."

"Anything in my power, I shall offer it to you," Raoul said.

"I would like to ask you what really happened since the night of Don Juan Triumphant."

Raoul was glad he had finished eating the piece of bread because he was certain he would have choked on it. Of all the things to ask, Madame Giry had to ask the one thing Raoul wanted to avoid. Henri noticed that Raoul had paled considerably once Madame Giry asked her favor. He had noticed the change of the Vicomte's behavior since that night, but he did not know the actual cause. He had heard the gossip as everyone else did in Paris of the Phantom that lurked in the Opera Populaire, but did not think anything of it. He thought nothing of it until last night when he found the man himself.

"O-okay," Raoul hesitated a bit. "After we parted, I continued down but fell into a trap door. I managed to get out and continued on my way."

Raoul looked at their expressions. He rolled his eyes seeing them both expressionless. He knew that he wouldn't tell the entire truth, so he hesitated no longer. "I found Christine in the Phantom's grasp. I was stuck behind the portcullis though. I asked him. No, more like begged him to let her free. I offered myself in her place. He raised the portcullis but it was all a trap and I found myself with a noose around my neck. He made her choose between him and me. Christine kissed the Phantom and he freely gave us our freedom."

Madame Giry raised her hand to stop him, "Christine kissed him and then let you go?"

Raoul smiled a bit, "Which one don't you believe, Madame, the fact that Christine kissed him or the fact that he let us go? Both are true though."

Madame Giry nodded. Henri gave him a glass of water to drink. Raoul thanked him; his throat was starting to hurt a bit.

"So, we fled. However, Christine wanted to go back to the Phantom one last time. So, I waited. I couldn't help but feel a little betrayed. It didn't matter that she had won us our freedom. I- well, I was shocked and more than a little jealous. When she came back, I put her in the boat and pushed her off by herself. I went back, but all I found was broken glass on the floor. Then the mob came and shot me, so I ran. I got a little lost trying to find my way out, but I finally managed and then Henri and the others found me."

"The blood," Madame Giry pieced the facts together, "The blood they found on the floor was yours."

Raoul nodded.

"Why did you run?"

Raoul looked at her incredulously, "They had just shot me. What did you want me to do? Wait until they aimed correctly?"

Ignoring his tone, she asked, "Why did you go back?"

"I needed to confront the man. He was no monster and I... I don't really know what I was doing. I just knew that I needed to see what had just happened."

"Okay," Madame Giry nodded, "I understand."

"Do you know what has happened to the Phantom?" Raoul asked tentatively.

"No," Madame Giry lied, "I hadn't even heard that part of what happened."

"Didn't Christine tell you?"

"She didn't want to talk about it. Meg might know but she has yet to tell me." Madame Giry looked at him expectantly.

"What else?"

"What happened then?"

"What else is there to tell?" Raoul asked confused.

"You broke the engagement with Christine."

Raoul nodded, "I... it wasn't Christine who I loved. It was the idea of Christine, of what we once had. I couldn't marry her."

"And the secret funding of the opera house?"

"What?" Raoul exclaimed shocked.

"Why else would the managers rush to your aid?" She stated matter-of-factly.

"I didn't want to see her again," Raoul answered, deflated, "but I couldn't let the opera house stay in shambles. I love music too much to let it die."

"And the organ?"

Raoul was really confused, "Organ?"

"Nothing," Henri interjected. He fussed over Raoul enough to distract him from the question before forcing him to lie back down. The blonde looked at his butler suspiciously before letting him have his way. He was really tired, but he would make sure to ask Henri about it later.

Henri walked toward the door, gesturing for Madame Giry to follow. Once in the hallway, Henri walked slowly away from Raoul's room.

"Madame, I do not think he knows about the organ."

Madame Giry looked at him oddly, "You sent an organ without his permission?"

Henri stopped walking, "That night of the opera, Raoul left early but he wasn't exactly himself. His clothing was in disarray and he seemed to be in a trance of some sort, as though some grave thing befell him. He kept mumbling to himself, most of which the groundskeeper could not understand. When he arrived home, it was almost as though he was a statue. He wasn't even blinking, but simply staring off into space. The groundskeeper and I had to carry him inside. We placed him by the fireplace and gave him some cognac in hopes that he would snap out of his stupor. It seemed to work for he blinked and smiled. He hurriedly wrote a note and placed it in an envelope saying that we were to send an organ to you directly. So we did in hopes that with this complete, he would return to normal. Instead, he simply began to stare at the fire. We changed him into his nightclothes and made him go to bed. We don't know what happened to him, but in the morning, he didn't remember anything that had happened. Not even the organ. Do you know what happened, Madame?"

"That night, the phantom of the opera supposedly came back."

"Supposedly?" Henri asked, intrigued.

"It was not him, but if Raoul thought it was, then it might be the reason why he was shocked," Madame Giry commented. She had a lot to think over, but something didn't feel right about he Vicomte's story. It did not explain why Erik had decided to save the Vicomte's life. She bade her farewell before heading towards her room. Maybe Erik was awake finally.

Henri walked back to the room. He was slightly disappointed to find that Raoul had indeed fallen asleep.

o.o.o.o

Meg had smiled almost evilly when she heard that her mother was giving the rest of the day off. Christine had yet to finish her practice. Meg wandered toward where her best friend was singing. She waited there thinking over the things she wanted to talk to Christine about. The forefront being what had happened at the Vicomte's house.

Christine was glad that practice was over. She began to walk offstage when she noticed Meg waiting for her. She cursed her luck.

"Hi, Meg," She smiled as sweetly as she could manage.

"Hi, Christine," Meg frowned at her, "We need to talk."

Christine sighed and followed Meg. They walked to the audience seats and sat down far in the back where no one would hear.

"I want to know what happened, Christine," Meg started straight to the point.

"Okay," Christine said, resigned to her fate, "I went to the Chagny estate and knocked on the door politely. Raoul opened the door and he didn't even offer for me to enter. I finally had to remind him that I was standing outside, so we went into the living room. I asked Raoul kindly why he hadn't informed me that he was in town. He said some rude curse and said that I was no longer his fiancée so he needn't tell me anything."

Christine was so wrapped up in her story that she didn't notice that Meg did not believe anything that she actually said.

"I was outraged and bade him good night. I had the misfortune of leaving my lantern behind and Raoul decided that the best way to return it to me was to throw it at me. I of course, dodged it and the house caught fire. I tried to get Raoul to leave, but he was trying to keep me inside while the house burned down. I had to escape. That is what happened, Meg. I am the victim here."

Meg stood up and walked away. She completely ignored the indignant sound Christine made as she left. She hoped to find her mother and talk to her about the whole fiasco.

Christine sighed, happy that Meg had left. She did wonder what had happened to Raoul, but she was certain that with her threat and the fact that his house had been burned down, that Raoul would leave Paris forever. She would live in peace now that both the Phantom and Raoul were gone.

o.o.o.o

Madame Giry had a lot to think about. There were many holes in what had actually happened. She hoped that Erik would be compliant enough to give some straight answers. She walked toward her room and came just in time to see Meg opening the door.

Madame Giry rushed to her, but she was too late. Meg had entered the room.

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

LOL, you know what I've realized. I've come to the realization that I shouldn't leave cliffhangers because it takes me entirely too much time to update. We'll see what happens. Hope this chapter isn't too crappy.


	15. Quiet Before the Storm

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash fic.

Warning(s): homosexual content, slash!

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: Insane huh… that was a quick update. I just wanted to make sure I was able to finish another chapter before work became too intensive again, which is going to happen come Monday (ahem, tomorrow).

Okay, intro to another new character. I just can't imagine Christine actually doing something physical and well, there's going to be a battle somewhere in the story and we need to add another character. Just to let you know I didn't want to do it and tried to think of different ways for this currently unknown event to happen, but it doesn't work without someone else. So, addition of another character.

Not much happens in this chapter, as you could probably guess from the title, but it has important plot points. Enjoy.

o.o.o.o

Pass Time: Quiet Before the Storm o-

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last Time: Madame Giry asks Raoul questions hoping to get to the truth of what is transpiring between Erik and Raoul, but in asking about the organ he sent, she only raises questions in Raoul's mind. Meg asks Christine what happened the night Raoul's house caught fire, but Christine lies about everything. Meg goes off in search of her mom and enters the room that holds a sleeping Erik.

o.o.o.o

-.-

Madame Giry rushed into the open door expecting to hear Meg's scream any moment at seeing the Phantom of the Opera in her mother's room, but no sound came. Instead, Meg turned around and sat down.

Madame Giry looked around the room in confusion. Not only had Erik been asleep like the dead when she last left him, but he shouldn't even be able to move as of yet because of his broken ribs. She wondered how he had escaped detection. There was absolutely no sign that he was present or even that he was ever there. He _was_ truly a phantom.

"Mama," Meg started. She didn't notice her mother's confusion. "I just don't know about Christine anymore."

"Hmm," Madame Giry looked at her daughter in interest and sat beside her, "Why so?"

"I asked her what happened at the Vicomte's house and I didn't believe a word she said."

"What did she say exactly?" Madame Giry asked.

Meg looked at her mother a little lost. "I don't think you're going to believe it either, Mama."

"Just tell me."

Meg nodded. "Christine said that she arrived to the Vicomte's house and he was very rude to her, not even inviting her in. Then he cursed her when she asked why he hadn't informed her that he was still in Paris."

Madame Giry could understand why her daughter didn't believe Christine's story. Though it was true that neither mother nor daughter knew the Vicomte extremely well, Christine's story was hardly believable considering the state she had been in when she left. The Vicomte had always been courteous and well bred. It seemed out of character.

"Then she said," Meg continued, "that the Vicomte caused the fire himself by throwing Christine's lantern at her. But the worse part is that she claims the Vicomte tried to hold her in the house so that they could die together and that she had to fight him off just to escape."

Madame Giry wanted to laugh. That part was insane. No wonder her daughter didn't believe it. Madame Giry absolutely knew it was a fabrication. Besides the fact that Henri had told her what had happened, Raoul had been the one to break the engagement and Christine had cried to both Madame Giry and Meg about her heartache. She highly doubted the Vicomte would want Christine back that much.

"What are we going to do about her?" Meg asked seriously concerned for her friend's well-being.

Madame Giry smiled gently to her daughter, "Do not worry about her. I need to find her, and I will. For now though, I want you to rest for the afternoon because tomorrow I will not be so lenient on you girls again."

Not completely convinced, Meg nonetheless nodded her head. She stood but didn't move, "What happened to the Vicomte? Was he still there?"

She couldn't help but look around the room at that. The Phantom was nearby and would hear the answer. If her suspicions were correct, she would not be able to tell her daughter that the Vicomte was inside the building. "The Vicomte is fine," Madame Giry soothed, "He has been picked up by friends and is well."

Finally appeased, Meg left the room.

Madame Giry remained sitting for a few minutes before standing up and walking straight to the full-length mirror in the room. She knew that it was the only passageway into the room, which meant it was the only way out of the room.

"Erik," she said quietly at the mirror.

Hearing no response, she tried again, louder, "Erik."

She was startled when the mirror suddenly slid open. She saw nothing into the darkness until a groan brought her eyes down toward the floor. Erik was sprawled on the floor, leaning at an awkward angle against the wall that was certain to hurt his ribs. He cradled his left wrist to his chest. He looked barely conscious, but managed to adjust himself so that his back leaned flat against the wall. He pushed himself up with some help from Madame Giry and made it back to the bed.

Once Erik was on the bed, Madame Giry asked, "How did you know it wasn't me who was entering the room?"

"It wasn't your footsteps, Madame," Erik replied with his eyes closed. His jaw was tense and he was mumbling to himself. From what Madame Giry caught of his words, it sounded like "I'm going to kill her."

"You're going to kill who?" Madame Giry asked.

Erik opened his eyes meeting hers with a calculating look. He didn't respond.

"You need to explain to me what exactly happened at the Chagny estate and why you were there," she demanded.

Erik's eyes narrowed with disdain, "I do not need to explain anything to you."

Madame Giry expecting the response, simply replied, "I saved your life."

Erik considered this for a moment before heatedly responding, "It would have been better to have let me die."

However, it's obvious to Madame Giry that his voice lacked the conviction for him to really mean it. She looked at him waiting.

Erik sighed irritated. He simply stated, "She is no longer my love, nor he my rival," before closing the subject by closing his eyes and presumably going back to sleep.

Madame Giry looked at Erik's still tense body as he 'slept' for a moment before leaving the room. She needed to find Christine and give her an entirely new punishment.

o.o.o.o

Henri returned to the room to find an expectant Vicomte lying in bed.

"So," Raoul opened up the conversation.

Answering without expression, Henri replied, "So."

"Don't give me that innocent look," Raoul accused and tried to sit up but the pressure on his hands stopped his effort. Instead, he crossed his arms.

Henri looked around the room and noticed a package he left at the table. "Oh, look what I found while out. I saw it and thought of you. I purchased it this morning."

Raoul looked at his butler then to the object in his hands and back to the butler. "A cane," he said neutrally.

"Yes, a cane."

"You realize I'm going to be able to walk again eventually," Raoul stared dubiously at the cane.

Henri replied seriously, "The doctor said you may never be able to fully walk normally again. You will have a limp."

Raoul felt the cold shock of harsh truth course through him. 'Never walk normally again. A limp.' The words echoed loudly in his head. Limps only became worse with age. By the time he's older, he'd be in a wheelchair for certain, earlier than he should like or mean to.

Seeing the devastated look in the Vicomte's eyes, Henri cleared his throat loudly.

Raoul shook his head from those depressing thoughts and looked at the cane with disdain.

"I hear it's quite the fashion nowadays," Henri stated just as seriously, but the look in his eyes told Raoul otherwise.

He looked at his butler in disbelief but couldn't stop the smile that formed.

"Either way, I highly doubt you will want to remain immobile for the duration it takes for your foot to fully heal."

Raoul sighed. That fact was entirely true, but he wasn't going to admit it to Henri. "I guess I shall just have to bear with it."

Henri placed the cane by the door.

Seeing him do so, Raoul asked, "What good is the cane going to do for me there?"

"You are not well enough to use it. Think of your hands."

Raising his hands above the blanket, Raoul looked at the bandages. Underneath he could feel some scabbing but mostly just an overall sting when flexing his hands or placing any pressure on it. "Negligible," he commented.

"Hardly," Henri retorted, "The cane also…"

"Wait," Raoul belatedly realized, "You've distracted me."

"And quite well if I say so myself," Henri lightly commented, allowing himself a small smile, "I have known you since you were a child, though sometimes I don't think you've grown."

Raoul pouts, "Must you still treat me as a child in front of company though?"

"Only when you act as one. You need to eat to become well again. How long have I tended to you?"

"Much too long, Henri," Raoul said dramatically placing his hand across his forehead, "Now, distract me again and I shall have to hurt you."

"I'm not distracting you, Sir. You are distracting yourself."

Raoul laughed at the comment before becoming serious once more, "What I want to know about is that organ."

"Organ?"

Raoul didn't look at all convinced.

Henri complied, "You wrote a note and told me to buy an organ, and as quickly as I could get it delivered to Madame Giry by the next day. So I did."

"An organ?" Raoul whispered to himself absentmindedly. There was only one person who needed an organ and it was Erik, but Raoul didn't remember ever telling Henri to do so. "When was this?"

"After the masquerade, Sir."

Raoul looked stricken, but he didn't respond so Henri continued, "You were in a daze when you arrived home, but it seemed as though you awoke from it when you asked this of us. So, we complied."

"Oh, no," Raoul groaned. He couldn't believe he'd done anything that night. He didn't remember it, but Henri wouldn't lie about something like that. Especially since Madame Giry had asked about it. He wrote a note and sent it to her. A note? Raoul cursed himself. In hopeful desperation, he asked, "Did you see what I wrote?"

"No, you placed it in an envelope with another letter and sealed it before we could have the chance. Not that we would, Vicomte," Henri looked at Raoul with interest. The boy was panicking over an organ.

"What! Another letter?" Raoul asked urgently, "What state was I in?"

"What do you mean?"

"Was I happy, sad, angry, or whatever when I was writing that note or even after it?"

Henri thought about it. "You only seemed calm. Now, try to calm yourself down right now before you hurt something."

"I am calm," Raoul practically yelled.

"You're a terrible liar."

Raoul took a couple of deep breaths. He was not calm, but how could he be? He couldn't remember what he wrote to Madame Giry, but then there was that second note to be more worried about. Surely enough he had written to the Phantom, but what would he have said. Was it confessions of love or words of hatred? Maybe, Raoul considered, that had been the catalyst to the Christine fiasco.

Henri then asked, "Does this have anything to do with the Phantom of the Opera?"

Raoul appeared a mix between shock and guilt. He momentarily considered what to answer before deciding on outright denial. "No, what gave you that idea?"

Henri looked at Raoul. He walked over to him and checked Raoul's temperature. Pleased that he wasn't too hot, he looked at the food and shook his head in disapproval.

"You need to eat."

Raoul relaxed a bit. He had not expected Henri not to respond to his answer.

Henri paused a moment, "Considering how you slept this morning, you'll probably sleep until morning. If not, you left enough food here for a snack. If you need…"

Raoul cut him off, "I can care for myself. You may do as you will."

Henri raised his eyebrow.

"But first," Raoul continued, "can you check on the estate? We will need a place to reside eventually and I do not currently wish to leave Paris. I do not think I will be well enough to do so myself. I trust you to handle that, please."

Henri nodded and headed out. Before closing the door, he popped his head back in and commented, "You're a terrible liar." He allowed a smirk to appear when Raoul began to blush.

o.o.o.o

Raoul lay on his bed. He was surprisingly exhausted. He had done nothing, but the conversations with Madame Giry and Henri had tired him out.

Still, his mind went back to the organ. He couldn't believe he'd sent an organ to Erik. He couldn't believe he'd written him a note, but more importantly, he couldn't believe that he couldn't remember what he'd written.

Raoul was frustrated. Frustrated was quite the understatement actually. He wanted to yell and scream, do anything just to alleviate the tension he felt.

He just knew that whatever it was in that letter would come back to haunt him. Considering his luck and how fate had been exceptionally cruel to him so far, he knew that letter had to be important.

Erik would confront him.

Raoul didn't know what to think of the man. There were so many impressions of him. Raoul wasn't certain who was the real one and which one to hope for. There was Phantom, the teacher of Christine. Phantom, the kidnapper of Christine. Phantom, the obsessor of Christine. Those were generally the personalities he didn't like from him. Then there was Phantom, the Angel of Music. Phantom, the brilliant composer. Those were the first impressions that made Raoul fall in love. Then there was Erik. Erik, the man. He was no phantom. Erik was brilliant, passionate, surprisingly compassionate, and devastatingly handsome (at least on the un-scarred portion of his face). No, Raoul amended; even with the deformity, the man was handsome. He knew he loved the man. Raoul smiled at the thought.

The smile disappeared though. Soon enough he'd have to face the Phantom. He'd face the Phantom that loved Christine and now had her, but more importantly, the Phantom that didn't love him.

Raoul stopped lying to himself. He had to if he wanted to remain sane. He couldn't do it anymore. It had been his plan to deny it once he was out of the room once he was better, but he knew he couldn't. He would have to face his emotions and face whatever was in store for him.

He tried to mentally prepare himself for the battle he knew what going to occur, but he just couldn't. He couldn't separate the Phantom from the man, and loving one meant automatically loving the other. Raoul instead prepared himself for more heartache and possibly more.

o.o.o.o

Christine hadn't moved since Meg had left. She sat down and thought of what really happened that night. She understood that it was her fault, but Raoul had been exceptionally cruel to her. She hadn't meant to burn down his house. She didn't even know what happened to him after it all. All she saw was that he stayed, but according to the rumors going around, the staff got out safely and was staying with some of the Chagny friends. That meant that Raoul was fine as well, right?

She sighed. Her anger for him hadn't actually left. Her regret was not so great to overcome it. The Vicomte had lied to her. Well, she didn't know for sure if he did, but he could have just as well left those rats on her nightstand. She did know for certain that he called her a monster, called her delusional, and called her insane. Those were hurtful words.

Raoul was probably just a scheming bastard trying to get back at her for leaving him (in her mind, she was the one that left him). He would probably try something now that his house had burned down. In fact, now that she thought about it again, she wasn't regretful.

"Christine?"

Christine squeaked in fright. Turning around, she saw that it was just one of the new singers in Faust, Robert (ahem, new character --). Some part of her thought it had been the Phantom. She laughed the thought aside. A larger part of her had actually thought it had been Raoul come to get his revenge. That idea was more likely than the previous one.

Robert had short brown hair, expressive brown eyes, and an incredible voice – nothing compared to the Phantom's, but admittedly, no one's voice could be that perfect. Robert was not only handsome he was nice. He was a bit showy, but who in the theatre wasn't?

She remembered flirting with him during the masquerade, and now that she was sober, she was glad that she did. He was very attractive.

"I'm sorry to frighten you," he stated with an apologetic smile and took a seat beside her.

Lightly laughing, Christine blushed and lowered her head demurely. She quickly thought of an appropriate response and replied with a frightened voice, "I thought it was the Phantom of the Opera."

He chided gently, "Remember what the managers said about being with others. You shouldn't be by yourself." Robert placed his arm around her shoulder, "Do not worry. I'll protect you from any harm."

Christine rolled her eyes. Robert was attractive, but too gullible in her opinion. She almost scoffed at his sentiment. The Phantom of the Opera was dead. He was also impertinent, placing his arm around her in such an offhand manner. However, she reconsidered, if the Vicomte were to try anything, it would be good to have some gentleman to have as protection.

She lifted her head up and with wide, innocent eyes looked at him, "Is that a promise, Monsieur?"

Christine congratulated herself when she saw him blush.

"Of course," Robert asserted. He grinned mischievously, "From this moment on, we shall be inseparable."

Christine giggled. So, she had found her protection. At least, he was handsome protection. If the Vicomte tried anything, Robert would be there to protect her.

Her happiness was short-lived though. At that moment, Madame Giry found her.

"Christine," she stated the warning evident in her voice. Even Robert flinched away at hearing it. He removed his arm from Christine's shoulder and stood up as Christine did as well.

Madame Giry was practically glaring at the girl. She noticed that Robert's arm had been around her shoulder and did not approved of it at all. Christine was quite the busy girl. She was also not pleased when Robert did not leave.

Robert noticed the glare move to him. "I am now Christine's personal chaperone so that the Phantom of the Opera will not get to her," he explained hurriedly.

Madame Giry considered this new information. She nodded her head in satisfaction. If someone else were with her, at least she couldn't do anything stupid. That of course is hoping that Robert was not stupid to begin with. She looked at him critically. Previously, he had seemed a sensible young man and Madame Giry hoped he was.

"I am giving Christine a punishment," she stated to him, "for breaking the last punishment she received. Twice."

Robert nodded. He looked at Christine dubiously. She had seemed a nice girl, but he was having his doubts. He couldn't go back on his word though and intended to keep her safe from harm. He hoped that he wouldn't get on Madame Giry's bad side as well though.

"Her last punishment had been to remain in her room unless she had rehearsal or a meal to attend. That punishment lasted less than a day," Madame Giry scowled at the girl. Christine wanted to hide from that look, but she knew it would only get her into more trouble, "That punishment is being altered. You are to report to rehearsals in the morning. If you are not on that stage before I arrive, then you will be staying later for chores yet to be decided by me. Once your rehearsals are complete, you will report to me immediately. You will remain with me for the rest of the afternoon until the ballet girls have finished practicing. Then you will help the sewers mend and adjust all the costumes. Not only those that you will be wearing but those which the others will be wearing. Once that task is complete, we will find you a new chore to assist. Then you will have dinner. If you were late in the morning, then you will complete that chore before going to your room to sleep."

Christine winced as she heard her punishment. She could not wake earlier than Madame Giry. She was sure to have more chores by the end of the day. It wasn't fair.

Madame Giry too did not completely appreciate the punishment. It meant that she would have to watch Christine for half of the day, but that was the only manner she could ensure that she would not get herself into mischief. She turned her attention to the young man, "As her chaperone, I expect you will need to be available throughout the day to ensure she not get lost or worse yet get caught by the Opera Ghost."

Robert nodded mutely. He wondered what Christine did to deserve such punishment, but he figured that this would give him an opportunity to win Christine's heart. So, he readily agreed.

"For the rest of the afternoon, I expect you to remain in your room," Madame Giry instructed Christine. To Robert, she added, "And I expect you to bring her. If you are to remain as her companion, you will remain outside her door unless _you_ have a chaperone. It will not do to have a man in a woman's bedroom. Understand?"

Robert nodded, then took Christine's arm and practically dragged her along.

o.o.o.o

0.0.0.0

o.o.o.o

The next few days passed relatively uneventful as everyone needed to recuperate.

Christine was busy with chores, and true to his word, Robert was there by her side to chaperone her throughout the day.

Raoul slept most of the day away, biding his time before he could start to move again.

Erik lay perfectly still, also sleeping most of the day. It was quickly beginning to hurt less and less when he breathed. He knew he could heal rather quickly since not much could actually hurt him.

It was to be the quiet before the storm.

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Okay, sorry about the verb tenses. It was really throwing me off because I've been writing in past tense right? Then when I was doing dialogue, it didn't sound write when I was writing in past tense, so I wrote it in present tense. Trust me, I'm completely confused, but really though. I changed it to past tense like it should be and it doesn't flow correctly, but a story should really only be in one tense. I tried to change it all but I doubt I did it completely. So, I apologize for the mistakes you find.

Yes, yes, you want some Erik/Raoul action right… well that's next chapter. Get ready for it, but we'll see what happens, right?

And then there's that infamous letter. We'll find out how it'll screw with Raoul later on… don't worry I haven't forgotten about it.

What else is there to say? I'm letting time go by so that Raoul and Erik can heal before I mess with them again.


	16. Fated Paths The Big Day

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash fic.

Warning(s): homosexual content, slash!

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: The time is really weird in this chapter. Since everything is technically almost happening at the same time but I want to separate the stories a bit, everything's a bit weird. Yeah, that's the only way I can describe it. For instance, we'll follow one character until lunchtime and then jump to another character but it starts in the morning. So it's like that. Don't be too confused please.

I have to tell you something but I'm not sure you wanna hear it. You'll be really pissed at me. I'll tell you at the end of this chapter.

o.o.o.o

Pass Time: Fated Paths – The Big Day o-

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last Time: Well, basically Raoul finds out about the organ and figures he may as well stop lying to himself and admit that he loves the Phantom (though he still believes that the Phantom loves Christine). Christine has enlisted the help of a young man, Robert (OC), because she's very paranoid about Raoul. Erik really wants to hurt Christine because he's heard of the lies she's telling Meg about Raoul. And basically up to now (a week or so later), I've given them time to rest so that some real action can occur.

o.o.o.o

-.-

Raoul stretched languidly on his bed. It was early in the morning and today was going to be an eventful day. He was feeling better overall though his leg still ached. However, today he had decided he would do everything he could possibly do, though little it would be, while still remaining hidden in the opera house. Two main things came to mind with this decision: playing the violin and wandering said opera house (when night fell of course). Coincidentally enough (not really), today was also the day that all of his servants, notably Henri, would be going back to the estate to go over the layout of the new household they were building. The others would stay to oversee and help the best they could while Henri would stop by to bring him lunch.

So, until then, he was a free man. Raoul looked around the room and the closed door. Well, as free as a man stuck in a room could be. Raoul grinned to himself. The past week had been utterly boring. The tension he'd had expecting the Phantom to sneak into his room at night or even broad daylight (though Raoul was forgetting what the sun looked like) had left him when no one arrived after the first two days. Raoul had come to the conclusion that maybe they had been successful at keeping his presence a secret. He doubted that fact because the Phantom always knew what was occurring in his opera house. Though the alternative would be to believe that Christine had somehow kept Erik so busy that he didn't care. Unbidden thoughts of a certain nightmare always came to mind when he considered this possibility so he did his best to steer his thoughts away such atrocities.

A slight knock on the door alerted the Vicomte before Henri entered the room.

"What are you doing awake so early, Vicomte?" Henri asked a little wary of the grin on Raoul's face.

Raoul tried to look as innocent as he could, and though he had perfected the look as a child, it had never worked on his butler. Henri pinned the blonde with a stern look. Raoul shrugged, "I knew that you were going to check on the house again and I wanted to know how it was going. I was going to go back to sleep right afterwards."

Raoul secretly hoped that the excuse was good enough.

Henri set down a tray of food on the bedside table. He replied, "Building is starting today. Tearing down the old house and clearing away the rubble took longer than they expected for a house that was almost burned to ashes. We've asked them to try to build as quickly as possible so that we can go home. They've decided to have two shifts of workers, one by day and one by night."

Raoul raised his hand to stop him, "Isn't that a bit dangerous though? I want to move out but not at the expense of lives."

"It's only for the foundation. It isn't as dangerous as you'd think. They'll stop when it does become too dangerous."

Raoul nodded uncertainly.

Henri checked Raoul's forehead though the blonde shied away.

"I haven't had a fever for four days," he whined, looking like a petulant child.

"I'm making certain it does not return," Henri turned to leave, but pausing by the doorway turned around and said, "I expect to find you in the same position when I return."

"Yes, I will stay in this stuffy room breathing the same air I have for the past week, Henri. Nothing to do, no one to talk to. I do not know how I will survive until your return," Raoul grinned broadly.

"Eat your breakfast." Already used to the Vicomte's antics, Henri replied simply before leaving.

Upon the door closing, Raoul had to contain himself from shouting for joy. It was true that Madame Giry had been kind enough to bring him material to read, as did the others, but one can only read for so long. The Opera Populaire had a couple of showings that Raoul had listened to intently, but that was only a few times and only during the evening.

Raoul looked around the room a bit antsy. He knew he needed to wait until the rest of the opera house woke up before being able to play his violin, but his hands ached to play again. Of course, they had ached for entirely different reasons after the accident and even now, he wasn't certain if he could play without hurting himself, but he was more than willing to try.

He stared at the ceiling and let his mind wander. It was becoming his favorite pastime, just letting his thoughts go where they wanted. They always wanted to go back to the Phantom, no to Erik. He had scrutinized every moment he had ever spent with the man. Both the good and the bad. It was so bad that he even had favorites amongst his memories. The best had to be the night they slept together in his bed. Of course that room was now completely gone and the memory felt as though it was fading with it. Raoul vaguely wondered if memories faded with too much use. He thought they would become more vivid.

The sounds of the orchestra members tuning made its way through the opera house to his room and Raoul smiled. Music had always made him feel more alive. He reached over the side of the bed, wincing slightly when he jarred his leg. Picking up the case, he opened it reverently and took out the bow and violin. He sat up straighter and prepared himself to play with the orchestra. He'd listened to the music so much he was certain that he would be able to play along without problem. He had imagined doing so for days.

Finished tuning, Raoul set the violin against his shoulder and closed his eyes imagining the conductor asking for silence. He could picture the baton and he waited to see what they would practice first. After the first few bars, Raoul immediately joined in. Eyes still closed, he let himself get lost in the music, always waiting for a simple prompt from the conductor he could only see in his mind.

o.o.o.o

Erik had awoken in a panic, though, truth be told, he had woken in a panic every morning for the past week. He always woke disoriented in Madame Giry's room. Erik did not appreciate having to stay away from the safety of his own home. He was however thankful that for some reason Madame Giry had been up earlier in the past mornings so that she didn't realize he'd woken in such a state. The insufferable woman had forced him to stay in the room on the belief that if he hurt himself further no one would be able to take notice and care for him.

To make matters worse, she had managed to find the only weakness he had and she exploited it to have her way. Somehow, Madame Giry had concluded that Raoul was important to him. Although she was correct, Erik did not appreciate her using it against him but he had yet to admit it to her. So, he saved the man from a burning building. That should not have given her any indication that he loved him.

Love him he did though. His thoughts were consumed with the blonde. It did not help when Madame Giry would bring him up whenever Erik threatened to go back to his home under the opera house. She'd been giving him updates on the Vicomte's well-being. He wasn't certain if she was lying to him, but she had made it explicitly clear that if he tried to leave before she deemed him well, he would be receiving absolutely no updates on him. Erik did have to admit anything was better than nothing was.

He was glad that Raoul was okay, but he made a mental note to do something to Madame Giry. Though what? He wasn't certain. He had to admit to himself that he hadn't actually wanted to move at all because it hurt to simply breathe, but he had to protest to keep his dignity.

Erik had been extremely bored. Madame Giry had been kind enough to bring him a sketchpad to do something, but he filled it with images of the Vicomte and therefore had to burn it before Madame Giry discovered it and confirmed her suspicions about Raoul.

Raoul. What was he going to do about Raoul? He knew that the Vicomte had to be in Paris still because Madame Giry had given him updates everyday. With whom was he residing though? Everyone thought he was out of town. Unless the Vicomte wanted to reveal that he had been lying, Raoul's options would be limited. How would he find the blonde? Christine had to ruin his plans. At least when Raoul was on his estate, Erik knew exactly where to go to look for him, but no, Christine had to ruin everything, again.

Then there was that letter. After having to burn the sketchpad, he hadn't had anything to do. However, he remembered the letter, the one connection he still had to the Vicomte besides word from Madame Giry. He was surprised at what was written, but then again he had been surprised with the organ. It only made him want to find Raoul faster. His current disappearance made his life all that much harder, but in his opinion, Raoul was well worth the effort. This brought him full circle back to Christine. If Christine hadn't burned his house down, Erik would've already kidnapped Raoul.

He was partially glad for her though. She provided quite the entertainment when Erik was thinking of the many different ways he could hurt her. Death was too nice. Thoughts of hurting her had taken up much of his time actually. Not as much as thinking of what to do with Raoul, but it was enough to hold him through the day.

He had already taken part of his revenge. He had written to the managers shortly after being incarcerated in Madame Giry's room to hire a new singer. If they were as obedient as he hoped they would be, that new singer was already studying under Carlotta. The thought was enough to hold him over before he could do some personal damage to Christine.

Today the pain was not so bad. His wrist had only been badly bruised and had already healed. He had been deeply relieved when he heard he hadn't broken it. He would still be able to play the organ. Erik stood up and slowly walked across the room. He breathed deeply and winced. Twisting his body slowly to one side, he winced again. He noted those facts mentally: breathing deeply and twisting were indeed still painful; walking was okay though.

This new development made his day brighter. He would be able to walk around the opera house and check up on everyone. Madame Giry had told him that Andre and Firmin no longer made any mention of the Opera Ghost but were pushing everyone very hard hoping to please him. For that, Erik was glad; it was one less situation to deal with. Madame Giry had his first paycheck, and though the money was an added bonus, he had wanted to check on his organ for the longest time.

Unfortunately, the organ was behind the stage so the only time he could possibly go check on it would be at night. Whatever to do until then?

He heard the orchestra begin to play. Pausing, he felt that something was different. Someone had entered late into the song but was playing rather well. Erik wondered about this. How could a single violin stand out so strongly against all the other musicians?

The tone was clear and vibrant, almost haunting. Before he knew it, the set had finished and Erik belatedly realized he'd been standing in the middle of the room the whole time. He shook his head. The violinist had captured his attention, almost as raptly as the Vicomte had. He had to go and investigate. Sliding the mirror aside, he carefully made his way to the stage.

The going was slower than he would have liked, but he arrived at the stage area still well hidden. He looked toward the orchestra but was disappointed to see many of the people had been replaced. Of course, he realized that some of the people had not wanted to return to the Opera Populaire even though the Opera Ghost had been rumored to be dead. This new group of musicians was quite alright. Not completely to his standards, but maybe that violinist was as close to his standard as he'd ever heard. They had stopped playing though and he waited to see which violinist had caught his attention from across the opera house.

The musicians began another set. Again, the violinist started a couple bars late. Erik looked at the orchestra but realized that the violin was not coming from the orchestra pit. Instead, it was somewhere near the rooms. He spared a fleeting glare at Christine before making his way towards the sound. Hopefully he'd be able to find the violinist who was playing.

o.o.o.o

Christine cursed herself. She threw on some clothes and ran out of her room, nearly running into Robert.

"Why didn't you wake me?" Christine yelled. She hadn't slowed her pace. Robert was always one step behind her. It had seemed like a brilliant idea to have a bodyguard, but he was persistent and not as fun as she would have hoped. Raoul also hadn't made an appearance. Maybe he had died in the fire. She highly doubted that. Maybe he left. It was possible. She was still annoyed that her plan backfired on her. It was ultimately to her benefit though. She had yet to break her new punishment with the exception of mornings.

"I did," Robert replied. You could hear the annoyance on his voice. The past week had been like this. He had promised her that he would be her 'buddy' in the opera house, but sometimes he wondered what he had seen in the girl. At times, she was charming and she _was_ pretty, but all the other times she was spoilt and self-centered. He wasn't quite sure who the real Christine was. "I've been waiting outside your room at your request so that you could get dressed. I didn't want to walk into your room while you were in a state of undress."

Christine ran toward the stage. She sighed when she saw Madame Giry already there. The prima donna could swear that Madame Giry woke up earlier just to spite her.

Through clenched teeth, Christine spoke, "Good morning, Madame Giry."

"You are late once again, Christine," Madame Giry answered. It was true that she had woken earlier in the mornings just to punish Christine that much more, but if Christine bothered to look around, many of the orchestra members were already there as well. Christine had never been an early riser to begin with.

Christine bowed her head. Yesterday she had had to help with the laundry and to her disappointment, her hands had become wrinkled by the end of it all. She had been thoroughly angered with Madame Giry's choice of punishment. Not only were her hands losing their smooth feel, she was losing quality beauty sleep. She hoped her punishment wouldn't be too harsh today.

Madame Giry looked Christine over. She highly doubted the girl had learned anything from her punishments. Not with the way she was fondling her own hands. She sighed to herself wondering what had happened to the young girl who had tried so hard to behave well. But Madame Giry was convinced letting her go without a punishment would be counterproductive, so she told Christine, "You will remain after everyone is through practicing to help clean up with the props and the set."

Christine nodded and dragged her feet towards the stage, Robert close behind.

o.o.o.o

Erik stopped walking. He leaned against the wall and tried not to take deep breaths even though he felt as though he was going to hyperventilate. The cold damp air of the tunnels was not helping. He was exhausted from moving from one side of the opera house to the other. It annoyed him, but what annoyed him more was that the violinist had stopped playing. The orchestra hadn't even finished but the violin had simply stopped.

It was strange though. The music was coming from the wing of the building that nobody used anymore because they were afraid of him. The only thing that Andre and Firmin sanctioned this wing for was storage. It was a waste of good space in Erik's opinion, but he knew he was mostly to blame for their general superstitious nature. He also blamed their idiocy on the matter.

Erik felt a strange sense of déjà vu. This was the path he had taken many times when he had been visiting Christine when she had just been given her starring role. He turned a corner and walked down a dark corridor before stopping at the point he knew to be where the mirror would be.

o.o.o.o

Raoul had lost himself in the music. He began the next piece with them when he finally thought to look at the time. Raoul cursed hurriedly reaching for the violin case. It was already well passed noon. Henri should have arrived with lunch hours ago. Raoul thanked God that his butler had been late. At least his luck was still intact. Raoul's fingers slipped on the case. There was some liquid on it. Raoul winced, looking down at his hands. It was blood. His fingertips were bleeding and blood had gotten on the strings as well as the violin case. Upon closer inspection, even his bow had blood on it. He looked to his right hand. His palm was bleeding; a scab from the burn had been stretched too far. He stared at his hands detachedly. It was hurting now, but earlier he hadn't even noticed. He wondered how he had lost himself in the music enough to not even notice he was bleeding. It was weird seeing his own blood. He felt as if it were a bad omen.

A noise outside startled Raoul enough to realize he should be more worried about being caught than some blood on his hands. He rubbed both violin and case clean with the bed sheets and placed the instrument on the floor. He pulled a blanket over both the dirtied sheets and his hands just as Henri was opening the door. He moved into a sleeping position facing away form the door. Raoul winced when his hands chaffed roughly as he pulled the blanket even further up on his shoulder.

If Henri thought he was awake, he would make him eat. If his butler made him eat, then his hands would definitely be seen. Raoul hoped dearly that Henri would not realize he had been awake. He steadied his breathing even though his heart was beating quickly.

"I'm sorry I'm late, but there were many things to be done at the estate," Henri looked around the room suspiciously. He looked toward the bed and saw Raoul's back. Whispering, Henri moved closer, "Vicomte? Raoul?"

Raoul shut his eyes tighter and focused on his breathing. He would not be caught so easily.

Henri sighed and commented to his supposed sleeping form, "That's what you get for waking up so early."

Raoul heard the tray be put down and some rustling of paper before the door opened and shut again.

Waiting for a couple more minutes, Raoul turned over to check if Henri had indeed left. The room was empty.

A sound by the mirror caught the Vicomte's attention, but when he looked, all Raoul saw was his own reflection and the empty room. He shrugged it off as his ears playing tricks on him. The Opera Populaire was known to make strange noises albeit the fact that most of the time those noises were usually because of a certain Phantom of the Opera. Raoul looked at the mirror again. He was suspicious but when he heard nothing, he figured it was simply his paranoia. He knew from his past with Christine that she had used that mirror to get to the Phantom. However, neither Christine nor the Phantom of the Opera had tried to contact him so far and for that, he was having mixed feelings. He was certainly glad he hadn't run into Christine. Though technically he couldn't _run_ into anyone because of his leg, but at least she hadn't discovered his whereabouts. In regards to the Phantom, Erik, Raoul couldn't help but want to see him. When they were apart, it seemed stupid to remain apart, but whenever they were together, everything was just too painful. It didn't make sense and it drove Raoul mad with the mood swings he would have.

Raoul forced himself to stop the train of thought.

The tray had been set on the bedside table along with a note.

_Raoul,_

_Left for the estate again. I do not think I will return until tomorrow morning. I asked Madame Giry to bring you your dinner._

_Henri_

So tonight would be the perfect night to try out Henri's gift. He would take the cane and find out if he really did send Erik an organ. Henri had mentioned that the organ was left behind the stage. Raoul had felt affronted at the news. He had sent a gift to the Phantom and said man was just leaving the gift to gather dust. It was an unreasonable feeling considering the fact he didn't quite remember sending the organ, but that was beside the point.

Looking at the food Raoul reached out to grab some fruit when he noticed his hands again. He cursed his luck when he realized that there weren't any bandages in the room, at least to his knowledge. Henri had disposed of the old bandages as soon as they were off, and unless he wanted to take the bandages off his leg, he had nothing to use. He would have to ask Madame Giry who would in turn tell Henri about it.

Raoul figured it wouldn't hurt to leave it uncovered for a bit before deciding he was more hungry than hurt. After lunch, Raoul looked at the clock and realized that the orchestra had already finished practicing. That meant he had nothing to do but sleep before he would be able to wander the halls. He didn't want to admit it, but he was tired. Feeling as though he was missing something important, he looked at the mirror again expectantly. Still, nothing happened.

o.o.o.o

Christine looked over to Robert, just to confirm that the man was nearby. He was sitting beside her watching the dancers. He looked entertained enough. She couldn't decide whether his presence was a blessing or a curse. Robert surely was handsome and she had a feeling that she would need him eventually.

She was having a bad day. They had found a new singer to join the chorus and to pick up the slack that Carlotta always left. The young upstart girl was very good actually. Too good in Christine's opinion. Christine knew that having a rival would be bad news for her. She was confident in her abilities to sing, and she hoped that it was enough to not be overthrown by the new singer. She tried not to think too much about it.

The day was interminable and she was already done with rehearsal. However, after her practice she would have to stay until the dancers were done.

Remaining in Madame Giry's sight was actually quite disturbing. Every time Christine moved, it felt as though Madame Giry was staring at her expecting her to do something bad. It was worse than when the Phantom of the Opera had watched her. Not only was Madame Giry watching her though so was Robert and at times so was Meg. It was enough to drive her mad.

She sat on the stage watching the dancers go through the motions. Sometimes she missed dancing, but she really loved to sing. It allowed her to get more of the spotlight and more fans, too. It was all so exciting. She wondered if this was what her father had enjoyed being such a famous violinist. She sighed. Things had been so much easier when she was little. Now though, everything was hard and people were always blaming her for things that just happen.

It wasn't as though she was trying to be bad. Those things just happened to her. Now that the Phantom was dead and Raoul was gone, she would never have to worry about those events happening to her ever again.

She lay on her back letting her mind wander. She could feel the pull of sleep overtake her until Madame Giry's voice shook her awake. Well technically, Robert was shaking her and Madame Giry was once again yelling at her. She sat up and tried to look apologetic. It was really all Madame Giry's fault she was tired. If Madame Giry stopped waking up so early, Christine figured she wouldn't be so sleepy.

Madame Giry gave her a stern look before telling the girls to have a little break while she left to get something.

o.o.o.o

Erik cursed all his luck. He had a feeling that the mystery violinist was behind that mirror. Unfortunately, in his own fit of paranoia, Erik had completely closed off the pathway when Christine had just returned. He moved from cursing his luck to cursing Christine. That woman had to ruin everything for him: first Raoul, then this violinist. He slammed his fist into the wall in frustration. He knew whoever was behind that wall was important but he would not be able to look inside anymore.

The only way to look into the room now would be through the door. That was not an option. Erik glared at the offending wall, his eyes piercing through the darkness. He almost hoped pure willpower would tear it down.

Instead, it left him more frustrated. He moved to the adjoining room to see if there were any clues as to who was staying in this part of the opera house. Moving from room to room, it looked as though a few people were indeed living in the rooms, but no one was around. Finally, Erik gave up and decided it must simply be new workers. Who else would the managers place in storage rooms?

He decided to go back to Madame Giry's room to rest. Unfortunately, when he arrived an angry Madame Giry was waiting for him. He weighed the pros and cons of entering the room. His fatigue won in the end. Ignoring her glare, he walked in and slid the mirror shut. He moved directly towards the bed without saying anything to her. He was tired, and if he wanted to go out again tonight, he would have to rest.

"Where were you?" Madame Giry asked in a clipped voice when she realized he wasn't going to say anything.

Erik lay on the bed with his eyes closed, but he still answered, "I decided I needed some exercise." After a moment of consideration, he continued, "What are you doing here? I know practice hasn't ended yet."

"I came here to check up on you."

Erik scoffed. "I never knew you to be a liar, Madame Giry."

Madame Giry let her anger slip away. She had been worried when she had entered the room and it had been empty. She had taken to locking the room when she left, and Erik hadn't moved in the past week. To say she had been surprised walking into an empty room would have to be an understatement. It was true though that Erik would be the best judge as to how well he was, but she would try to convince him to relax longer. She didn't want him to exacerbate his injuries.

She and Henri had been collaborating over their thoughts about their charges. Interesting facts and stories had come to light, and Erik's reactions to her daily news about the Vicomte were enough to convince her. She had been amused more than surprised, but overall, she had felt glad. Erik did not take rejection very well, and she was certain the only one that saved him from certain self-destruction had to be the Vicomte. There was no other explanation. Nonetheless, she wanted to make certain that the Vicomte felt the same way. She would not let another young child hurt Erik the way that Christine had.

"Madame Giry," Erik said again. He was losing his patience. He had called out her name at least five times now.

Madame Giry snapped out of her thoughts, "Sorry, Erik, I had been thinking."

Erik bit the caustic remark he had down. "I asked what you were going to do with those ballet outfits."

"Oh," Madame Giry looked at the clothes in her hands, "It's something for Christine to do while waiting for ballet practice to end."

Erik turned over and tried to sleep. The mention of Christine's name had annoyed him and he was certain he would say something to annoy Madame Giry. Sleep would definitely be the better action to take.

Madame Giry took her cues well and left the room. She had a rehearsal to finish and some chores to make ready before the day was done.

o.o.o.o

0.0.0.0

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

So that thing I was going to tell you. You see, this story was actually done a long time ago. However, I got busy and for some reason I thought I'd already posted it, but it seems I haven't. So, sorry. -.- I really am sorry! Thanks to those people who have reminded me and have waited for this conclusion. I hope that it ends to your liking.

o.o.o.o


	17. Fated Paths The Big Night

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash fic.

Warning(s): homosexual content, slash!

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: Hi, it's me again. Well, hope you like the fact that I'm posting everything up at the same time. It's quite addicting, right? Well, I hope you enjoy this chapter. And well, every chapter that follows.

This one's action packed. I wanted to break it up some more and leave cliffhangers but then I remembered that I suck and forgot to post this sooner, so… here you go all in one chapter and for your reading pleasure.

o.o.o.o

Pass Time: Fated Paths – The Big Night o-

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last Time: Well, Erik and Raoul have a near miss in meeting each other, but they have to meet in this chapter, right? Well, they both plan to check on the organ tonight. Christine's in trouble again, poor Robert who seems to be a good guy is stuck with her, and what's Madame Giry planning with Henri?

o.o.o.o

-.-

Raoul rolled over in the bed and pulled the sheets up over his head. The bed was so warm he almost fell asleep again.

As soon as his mind cleared a bit, he sat up quickly looking at the clock. He hadn't meant to sleep for too long. He hoped that it wasn't morning already. All his plans would have gone to waste. Henri would be around and then he would not be able to do anything at all. Tonight had been the only reason he had managed to stay sane so long.

He sighed, seeing that it was only eleven in the evening. He would have plenty of time to go wander the halls and look for the organ.

On the bedside table lay a tray of food, presumably from Madame Giry but Raoul felt too excited to feel hungry.

Raoul pushed the blankets down and slid his legs over the edge of the bed. He tentatively placed his left leg down but had to take the pressure off it as searing pain shot through his spine. All Raoul had felt the past few days was a dull ache, but the slightest touch had sent that dull ache into a burning sensation that rivaled the fire that had given him the injury. He was not to be deterred though. Raoul pushed himself into a standing position and balanced on his right leg. Spotting his clothes folded on the table, he hopped on his one good leg to it. He was dismayed to think that none of his clothes had survived the fire. All he had left were his pajamas, which were already in horrible shape, but compared to the flimsy night robe one of the managers had kindly provided and he currently wore, he knew he didn't really have much of a choice. Raoul was consoled when he saw a cloak on the seat. Raoul figured one of his servants must have accidentally left it. He pulled the cloak on to fight the chill of the night.

Finally dressed, he hopped to the door and picked up the cane that Henri had bought for him. Holding the cane, he couldn't help but feel that it seemed too heavy. Before he could think about it more though, his eye was caught by an ornament on the cane. He looked at the design adorning the top of the cane and was surprised to see an elaborate metal figure of a rose. A rose? Raoul couldn't help but think of the Phantom of the Opera. He wondered why Henri had chosen the design.

He ignored his thoughts for the moment and tested walking. It was a bit painful on his hand but that couldn't be helped. No leg injury, no clothing mishaps, and definitely no pain in his hands would deter him from going out tonight. Looking at his hands, he was glad that the bleeding had stopped and they didn't look too injured. He would have to make up a reason and ask Madame Giry tomorrow for some bandages.

Finally deciding that he was ready to go out, Raoul pressed his ear against the door. Hearing no one on the other side, he opened the door slowly. It squeaked quite loudly in his ears, but no one was outside. Looking left and right down the corridors all he saw was darkness.

Not only was Henri gone but so was everyone else from his household. It was late and no one would be back yet, and if they were, Raoul hoped they were deep asleep from the long day. He hobbled out of the door almost losing his balance because he had stepped on his left foot. He kept forgetting to lean on the cane for some reason.

Raoul had to make a conscious effort to use the cane. Whenever he wasn't being careful though, the cane thudded on the ground echoing loudly through the halls. This was becoming more of a pain than anything else. He almost considered turning back around and staying in the room, but remembering the torturous week of imprisonment he had experienced, he decided to deal with the shortcomings of being injured and using a cane. At least he was moving around.

The one good thing he had to admit being cooped up in that room accomplished was the fact that his eyes were well adjusted to the darkness. He couldn't see everything, but everything minus the darker shadows was clear as day to Raoul now. It amused him as he looked through this new perspective of the opera house, and this time he allowed his mind to wander to the Phantom.

o.o.o.o

Christine frowned at the ballet clothes she had just finished mending. She hadn't had to sew in such a long time, and she had pricked her fingers many times. Robert even had to help her so that she would finish before it became too late. He was just as bad, but at least he made things a little bit faster. Madame Giry had let the dancers off already, but she had forced Christine to stay until she finished sewing.

It was so late now that she had to stay and help clean up the props on the stage. She looked at the props in disgust. Both she and Robert were backstage, the curtain was down and the lights barely bright enough to see what she had to move. To her irritation, Robert had decided to sit down by the wall and watch while she did all the work. True enough, it was her punishment, but what kind of gentleman would let her do it by herself? She had to move quite a number of furniture pieces to the other side of the stage so that the crewmembers would have easier access to the new changes in the set design. Along with that, she had to move some pieces of armor and swords that had been left quite haphazardly to the side as well. It would take quite a bit of time if she was to do it by herself, but if she could play her cards just right, she would be able to get Robert to do it for her.

"Robert," Christine called out. Not hearing an answer she called again, this time louder, "Robert? Where are you?"

Feeling a hand on her shoulder, she screamed and backed away from said person. Robert held his hands up in hopes to placate her.

"I'm not the Opera Ghost, Christine," Robert replied, the sarcasm subdued but audible.

Christine rolled her eyes and muttered, "Well, that's quite obvious."

"Did you say something?" Robert asked.

"I just said, you shouldn't go scaring people like that," Christine smiled sweetly.

Robert nodded his head, not really believing that was what she had said. "Christine?"

Christine nodded a bit eagerly thinking Robert was going to offer to help of his own volition.

Robert continued, "Wasn't there an organ in the back before?"

Dismayed that Robert had just gone off on a tangent, Christine shrugged her shoulders before realizing what he had said. The organ was missing? It had been there all week, and now it was gone? Christine had a fleeting thought that the Phantom had retrieved it but let the thought slide. The Phantom was dead. She decided one of the managers must have just moved it and irritatedly told Robert as much.

Robert sighed and asked, "You called me?"

"Yes," Christine cradled her arm against her chest, "I tried carrying one of those heavy chairs all by myself, and I think I injured my arm."

It was Robert's turn to roll his eyes. Christine was really trying his patience. She was just using him. However, if he didn't help her out with her chores, he would never get to sleep. It was a vicious cycle, but he had freely offered to be around her, and now he had to deal with the consequences. He sighed deeply and began to move the furniture to one side. Christine sat on the chair she had supposedly injured her arm on and watched him work.

Robert lifted one of the swords. He was surprised to find that it wasn't a prop but an actual sword. He tested its balance and took some practice swings with it.

"Don't dawdle, Robert," Christine said harshly.

Robert had finally reached the end of his patience and turned to snap at her when a thud from the shadows caught his attention.

"Well, standing there isn't any better than playing with that toy," Christine stood up to grab the sword away.

Annoyed, Robert covered her mouth with his free hand and shushed her. Robert took his hand off her mouth when he was sure that she wouldn't talk again. Readying the sword, Robert strained to hear any sounds.

Seeing that Christine was going to talk again, he whispered, "Someone's here."

o.o.o.o

Madame Giry looked at the unmoving form of the Phantom of the Opera. She had yet to go to sleep because she was going to check on Christine and see how well the girl was progressing. With Robert's help, Madame Giry knew that a good portion of the work would be completed. Madame Giry also knew that Christine would be making the poor boy do all of the work instead of just helping.

Madame Giry no longer knew what to do with Christine. She couldn't be disciplined any more because the prima donna seemed to be taking lessons from Carlotta on stubbornness and every other bad habit the woman had. It was too numerous to keep up with. She could only hope that something would snap Christine out of the mindset she had gotten into after Don Juan Triumphant.

As she opened the door, she realized that Erik had woken and was staring at her.

"Where are you going?" Erik asked.

"I'm going to check on Christine," Madame Giry said warily.

Erik considered this for a moment before sitting up. "Why don't you allow me to check up on her so that I can see my organ?"

Madame Giry almost laughed but seeing that Erik was actually being serious, she shook her head. "I do not think that wise, Erik."

"I will do no harm to her," Erik replied as though it were the farthest thing from his mind – as though he hadn't been thinking about it for the past week. "I simply want to get out of this room and see my organ."

Madame Giry looked at him still uncertain. In his current state, she knew that Erik couldn't do anything physically strenuous. At least, she hoped he couldn't.

"You should get some sleep since you've been waking earlier," Erik tried to convince her.

Against her better judgment, Madame Giry agreed. "If something happens to Christine, I will hold you responsible and will tell the mob they'd failed to kill you."

Erik look affronted, "That is a harsh punishment, Madame."

"It needs to be harsh when it concerns you, Erik," she replied evenly.

Erik stood up and made his exit through the mirror in the room. Madame Giry looked at her reflection in the mirror still uncertain whether she made the proper choice. Having Erik caged was not the best course of action but placing him near Christine may just be worse.

o.o.o.o

Raoul hadn't passed anyone on the way, so he had taken his time. The last time he had been here everything had been decorated differently. Masquerades were such a grand affair that the opera house looked completely different now. It could also be credited to the fact that the place was completely empty and dark.

By the time he reached the stage, Raoul was getting the hang of the cane. He could move relatively quickly and he had already begun to ignore the new pain in his hand. Of course, he couldn't avoid the occasional trip, but he wasn't used to completely avoiding his left leg and his arm was tiring.

Raoul didn't realize there were people still on stage until he heard Christine's voice. He stopped suddenly and immediately tensed so much that he slammed the cane on the ground. The Vicomte flinched as the sound echoed through the stage. He moved quickly towards the darkness of the curtains when he heard a man's voice telling Christine to be quiet. He stood as still as possible hoping that whoever was with Christine would let it be.

His heart was beating so loudly that he almost missed when Christine spoke again.

"Robert," Christine whined, "remove your hands from my mouth. There is no one there."

Raoul moved towards the voices. He knew that he should probably run since he was in no condition to encounter anyone yet, but his curiosity got the best of him. Peaking past the darkness he saw Christine being held by another man, one he assumed to be Robert.

Something clenched in his heart seeing that Christine was cheating on the Phantom like that and so obviously too. He then realized that the Phantom must be nearby if Christine was still on the stage. Worriedly, Raoul looked up at the catwalks and around the stage but he saw no one and no mysterious shadows. The only thing out of place was himself. He returned his gaze back to the two on stage when Robert began speaking of the Phantom.

Robert had yet to let her go preparing himself with the sword in his hand just in case someone should attack them from the darkness. The darkness was so deep he was certain someone was hiding in them. The meager lighting the lamps they had was only enough to light a small circle of stage. Anything past that circle was deep darkness. "It could be the Phantom of the Opera, Christine."

Christine's laugh openly mocked Robert's response. She didn't notice as he glared at her.

"Do not let your imagination run away with you, Robert. The Phantom of the Opera has yet to strike again since the masquerade."

Raoul moved closer to hear their conversation better. He too had glared at Christine, for different reasons of course, and he could feel his anger building. Christine was all over Robert placing her hands on his chest. He gripped the cane harder in an effort to calm himself. Unfortunately, he could feel his hand protest at the action and his wounds open again.

Christine finally realized that she was annoying Robert. She desperately tried to think of a way to keep him loyal to her. She looked at the position she and Robert were in. It was compromising to say the least, and Christine realized a way she could keep Robert appeased. She smiled coyly up at Robert catching his attention immediately. She pressed herself closer to him. She smiled a little more smug seeing Robert begin to blush.

"C-Christine," Robert stuttered not really trying to get away but putting up the pretense of trying. He couldn't help but feel a little bit entitled to kissing her since he'd spent the past week listening to her whine and giving in to her whims.

"Yes, Robert?" Christine placed her arms around his neck. She noticed the change in his demeanor as the blush faded, "I know something better than your hand that you can place on my mouth."

Robert grinned roguishly leaning forward to capture her lips.

Raoul couldn't believe what he was seeing. Christine had stolen his house and almost his life. She had failed in taking his life though had managed to injure him enough to force him to use a cane. But that was not all, she had stolen what had mattered most to him. Christine had stolen the Phantom away from him. He couldn't contain his anger any longer. That kiss was the last straw. He screamed and swung his cane at the couple hitting both. He stumbled forward as he stepped on his left foot but caught himself in time to remain standing. Christine had fallen to the ground with a yell and Raoul moved to hit her again but Robert stepped in front of her.

Robert held his sword in front of him. The cane had hit his shoulder and it ached as he stood in front of Christine but he ignored it. He, too, was enraged. He finally was able to kiss Christine and someone interrupted him. He glared at the man in front of him, blonde hair messy, wearing a cloak covering all of his body and holding the cane, that Robert was certain left the bruise on his shoulder. Robert looked at his face and saw no mask but rather a handsome man, but it made no sense since if the man was not the Phantom of the Opera, he would have no reason to attack them.

"Who are you?" Robert ordered.

Raoul looked right past the man as though he were insignificant. He stared his hatred straight at Christine. He leaned heavily on his cane feeling both his leg and hand throbbing in pain. He would destroy Christine. "Get out of my way."

Robert shook his head. He was not budging from this spot. Looking behind him, he saw Christine had stood up and was staring at the man in shock and anger. She too held her shoulder where the cane had landed. Never turning completely away from Raoul, he asked her, "Who is this, Christine?"

Christine stared from Robert to Raoul and back again. Raoul was glaring at her again. His anger was not abating and he was certain it wouldn't until he hit her again, preferably harder and numerously. Christine couldn't believe it. Raoul was indeed still alive and she was correct in her assumption that he was trying to attack her. She felt her indignation rise and realized that Robert needn't know that Raoul was a Vicomte.

"Robert," she made her voice quiver, "that is the Phantom of the Opera."

Momentarily forgetting about his anger, Raoul stared at her in shock. "What?" The question fell from his lips before he could comprehend what had just happened.

Robert considered her statement for a moment before turning back to Raoul with new resolve. He had heard that the Phantom had mask, but he knew that Christine had had more dealings with the mysterious opera ghost than he did. Maybe it had been exaggerations that the opera ghost had a porcelain mask. He knew what he had to do.

Raoul couldn't believe it. She had just called _him_ the Phantom of the Opera. The man couldn't be that gullible. Before he could finish his thought, Robert had lunged at him. It was only because of the extra training Raoul had put himself through that he hadn't been skewered. He looked at Robert in disbelief, and tried to stop him.

"I'm not the Phantom of the Opera, Monsieur."

Robert wasn't listening though. He figured the Phantom was simply trying to trick him before killing them both. "I would not believe a word from your mouth."

Christine backed away from the two. She wasn't sure she wanted Robert to kill Raoul, but she couldn't just take back what she had spoken.

Robert swung for Raoul's head. Knowing that he couldn't dodge it, Raoul lifted up his cane to block. The clash reverberated through his hands almost making him lose his grip. Raoul pushed the other man away trying to get some distance between them. However, Raoul couldn't move if he was using his cane as a weapon so he stood his ground. Raoul gripped the cane with both hands in a ready position.

"I am not the Phantom, Monsieur. I am the Vicomte de Chagny."

Robert scoffed and attacked again. Raoul continued to block. He was being pushed back by the force of Robert's attacks. He hopped backwards, avoiding the use of his left leg because he was certain to fall once he tried to walk on it. His hands were starting to get numb from the pain and the shocks from the impacts of their weapons.

Raoul quickly assessed the situation. He would not be able to do anything as long as he was on the defensive. He couldn't outrun Robert. So, Raoul gripped the cane harder even though he could feel his hands slipping slightly because of the blood. He swung for Robert's head forcing the other man to stop his vicious attacks. Raoul didn't stop. He was losing his balance but he kept pushing forward. He swung downward and Robert blocked. The two were at a standstill.

Robert had noticed that Raoul didn't have a firm grip on the cane. He grabbed the cane and ripped it out of Raoul's hands throwing it behind him. The cane skidded into the darkness.

Raoul finally lost his balance and fell to the floor. He turned onto his back, and the sword was immediately at his throat. Out of breath, Raoul stared at the man's eyes and calmly stated.

"I am not the Phantom."

Robert leaned closer, drawing blood from the Vicomte's neck. "I will rid this opera house from the infamous opera ghost. Good-bye, Monsieur."

o.o.o.o

Erik was walking to the stage slowly. He was feeling better but didn't want to overexert himself lest he injure himself further. He was surprised that Madame Giry had actually let him go check on Christine. He was surprised that she agreed to let him anywhere near the woman. Madame Giry knew best how Christine's betrayal had affected him. He was certain that she also had an idea of how Christine's attempted murder of Raoul had affected him.

He couldn't believe that Christine was so frustratingly evil. He was certain she was no mastermind, but idiocy can only be an excuse for so long. If he had the opportunity, he would kill her tonight.

Erik knew that he should make her suffer, but he didn't know if he could contain himself. That woman had ruined everything in his life and she had taken Raoul away from him. He no longer knew where the boy was and he had no means of finding him. He could try to talk to Madame Giry but he was certain she would not speak to him about Raoul's whereabouts. It wasn't as though he could go traipsing about the countryside following the Vicomte even if he did know where he was.

He so desperately wanted to find Raoul though. Erik had to admit to himself that he would do anything to get the Vicomte back.

Erik walked faster when he heard sounds of a battle. He walked on the stage in the darkness but could only see Christine's back as she watched the fight. He shifted to the side so that he could see what was happening when a cane slid at his feet. Erik picked it up in confusion when he felt blood on the handle.

Past Christine, the scene he saw stopped his heart. Erik took all of it in in a moment. The familiar blonde hair was the first thing to catch his eye. He couldn't help but smile just a bit. The joy turned sour when Erik saw the blood on Raoul's hands and the sword at his throat drawing more blood. A man stood above the Vicomte about to deliver the fatal blow. Erik knew he was too far to be able to stop it.

He moved faster than the thought that had driven him to action yanking Christine by the hair to him. Her scream immediately stopped Robert from killing Raoul. Christine was about to scream again when Erik used the cane to choke her.

"One scream was all that I needed," Erik whispered hoarsely in her ear, "Now, not another peep from you."

Christine struggled and realized immediately who was behind her. She would recognize that voice from anywhere. She couldn't help but panic. The Phantom was alive and well. He was going to kill her. She implored Robert to help her with her eyes.

Turning around, Robert and Raoul gasped in unison.

"But," Robert looked down at Raoul, "Aren't you the Phantom?"

Erik laughed mockingly. Christine shivered, feeling the hatred the Phantom exuded. He whispered to Christine loud enough for everyone to hear, "You've certainly picked a winner with this one Christine. Someone easily manipulated."

Robert pulled the sword from Raoul's neck quickly.

"Didn't you hear I wore a mask?" the Phantom mocked further.

Robert didn't answer, already feeling ashamed at himself.

Raoul slowly levered himself onto his forearms. He had been calm before. He had been willing to face death because his life had been over the moment he had lost all hope that he could be with Erik. He had stared past the sword at Robert and serenely stated the truth. He hadn't been afraid. He hadn't felt his heart skip a beat at the thought of death. But now. Now, Raoul couldn't stop his heart from racing. He almost felt as though he was going to hyperventilate. He saw Erik and felt a myriad of emotions flood his system. He didn't know how to feel. Not only was Erik in front of him, but he was threatening Christine. Raoul couldn't help but feel hope for his situation. Hope that Christine had simply told another lie about being with Erik. Hope that Erik was fighting for his wellbeing. Hope that Erik did care. Raoul felt his hope fade a bit when he realized that the Phantom would probably just be angry with Christine for cheating on him. He had seen them together with his own eyes at the masquerade. Raoul didn't know why he kept lying to himself. The Phantom would not be here to save his life. He would be here to get revenge. Raoul laid back down and stared at the darkness above him. He couldn't move even if he wanted to. His cane had been thrown from his hands. Then, the Phantom would chase him down and kill him eventually now that he knew he was in the opera house. Raoul closed his eyes and hoped that he would be able to have a quick death. At least then, the pain in his heart would finally stop.

He was reluctant to leave his previous adversary on the ground unattended but seeing the masked man holding Christine hostage, he suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He had been about to kill an innocent man. Christine had lied to him and he had readily believed her. He had let himself be manipulated. Robert didn't want to check on the man he had a sinking feeling would be the Vicomte de Chagny for fear that if he turned away for even a moment, the Phantom would take Christine away. He stood up and moved closer to the Phantom. He distantly thought to himself that the stories about the Phantom had actually been the truth. He did wear a mask. The porcelain mask shone unnaturally in the dim light and the anger in his eyes was enough to make Robert quiver in fear.

"Release her," Robert winced when he heard his voice crack.

Erik laughed evilly. He spoke to Christine, "This is to be your saviour?"

Robert cleared his throat and moved closer. "Release her."

Erik spared a glance at Raoul. He felt his throat close when he saw the blonde's head on the floor unmoving. He wondered if he hadn't acted fast enough. Raoul was dead. Erik felt his hands tightening of their own accord. Christine made a gurgling sound as the little air he had been allowing was cut off so suddenly. She struggled for a bit before all her energy left her. She stood limply in his arms. He didn't want her to faint though so he forcibly loosened his grip. He felt his mind go numb and remembered how good killing felt. How satisfying it was to get his revenge and get what he wanted. Now, though what he wanted was dead. Returning his gaze to Robert, he glared at the man that was about to die at his hands.

"You don't even have a weapon. Just let her go," Robert tried to appeal to him.

Erik scoffed. He moved his hands so that they were side-by-side near the rose design. Christine struggled futilely. His hands tightened on Raoul's blood. Robert watched warily at the movement. Before he could even react, Erik had twisted the top and pulled out the steel rapier from the wooden shaft of the cane. He sliced Christine's throat with deadly precision and let her fall to the ground with a dull thud. Erik felt a deep satisfaction in the act and watched as the blood flowed out of her throat. She hadn't even had time to react.

Robert stared in complete shock. He was frozen in his spot holding the sword uselessly in front of him. He hadn't done a thing to stop the Phantom. Christine lay on the stage her eyes open and still conscious as her life slipped from her neck slowly. Her hands were trying to stop the blood, but it wasn't doing her any good.

Erik practically sauntered over to Robert. Still, Robert couldn't move a muscle. Erik grinned maliciously before raising the sword to kill the man who he thought had killed Raoul.

"Don't!" Raoul yelled. He tried to push himself up but failed. He had had his eyes closed but when he heard the dull thud on the stage he looked to see what had happened. He stared numbly as Christine bled all over the stage. The Phantom was looking a bit crazed and was holding what once had been his cane. He didn't know what to feel much less do, but when he saw the Phantom move towards Robert, he had to stop him. Erik wouldn't do that.

Erik stopped. Raoul was alive. He sheathed the sword and stared at the blonde with relief. He spared a glance at the man in front of him and then at Christine. He heard Madame Giry approaching.

In a moment, Erik was at Raoul's side lifting him up in his arms and leaving the stage. Raoul didn't understand what was happening at all. The last thing he saw was Madame Giry giving him a look before yelling at Robert to stop the bleeding before the darkness of the opera house overtook his senses.

o.o.o.o

0.0.0.0

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Pure insanity, right? I hope it was good for you. :o)

I slit Christine's throat!

o.o.o.o


	18. Falling Completely

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash fic.

Warning(s): homosexual content, slash!

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: Wasn't that last chapter insane! Yeah, so this is the chapter that makes the rating M, just to let you know. And might I say, _way_ M rating. So, if you don't want to read smut, you really shouldn't read this chapter and I'd make it less smutty, but there's been way too much teasing of Erik and Raoul that I don't think it could be written any other way. I remember how bloody hard to write this sex scene was. I had to stop every once in while because my brain would turn to mush and I remembered how much I couldn't write sex scenes too well (too much squee-ing, I can't concentrate). I think I had a couple of nosebleeds trying to write this one.

It's smut and fluff all rolled into one chapter! (So, OOC-ness ensues)

Last Chapter!

o.o.o.o

Pass Time: Falling-Completely o-

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last Time: All hell breaks loose. Erik loses a couple years of his life when he sees that Raoul is about to be killed. He gets pissed off when he thinks Robert did kill him and then Christine gets her throat cut. Robert manages to get out unscathed only because Raoul stops Erik from killing him.

o.o.o.o

-.-

Raoul said nothing as Erik carried him back down into the cellar. Back where the whole ordeal started. It wasn't as though he didn't want to say anything. He just didn't know what to say. He didn't know what exactly Erik kidnapping him meant. Erik wasn't holding him roughly; in fact, his touch was gentle, almost caressing. He desperately wanted to hope that everything would turn out okay.

He was startled out of his thoughts when Erik placed him on a bed dropping his cane beside him. Raoul watched Erik's back as he moved through the darkness lighting candles around the room.

He took a moment to look at his surroundings. The last time he'd been here, he'd been delirious with fever, but he was certain that it wasn't this bare. At least the broken shards of glass and ruined furniture were also gone. There were black curtains hanging and the candelabras were still standing prominently. However, nothing else adorned the room besides the bed and a table. Raoul watched as Erik finished lighting the candles. Returning to the bed, Erik sat as far from Raoul as the bed allowed and placed his head in his hands. Raoul bit his lip. Erik had yet to look at him once in the whole trip, and he hadn't spoken a word either.

Erik needed to catch his breath. His lungs were burning and it felt as though he had broken more ribs. He couldn't do this right now. He couldn't handle this. He didn't want to handle this situation. It was too much. He had wanted Raoul for so long and now that he had him, he wasn't sure what to do. Now that the pain was distracting him, he couldn't even think.

That was really just an excuse though. Erik was used to pain. He was used to physically hurting. He was used to using his body to its limits. He could ignore the pain easily. What he wasn't used to was feeling such overwhelming relief. He wasn't used to caring about what happened to people. He wasn't used to loving so much that it hurt more than his physical wounds. He had died with Raoul on that stage. It was what had him out of breath. It was what was drowning him. He had really thought Raoul had died on that stage. When Raoul had spoken, he didn't believe what he had heard at first. He couldn't believe that Raoul was really alive, not when he had almost already accepted it. Not when he had a purpose and though it involved killing people, Erik had been fine with that.

Now, he was back to not knowing what to do. He wanted to touch Raoul so badly to make sure he was real, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He already carried the blonde down to his cellar knowing that Madame Giry would be angry, but it wasn't enough.

He so badly wanted Raoul. To take him right there and then and forget about the consequences. But there would be consequences. Erik wasn't sure what would happen if he lost Raoul again. He could only fall in love so many times. This love was breaking him.

Without turning around, Raoul stated in a neutral voice, "You killed Christine."

Raoul wondered at the statement. Saying it aloud made it seem more real. He had thought about killing Christine. That particular thought had actually been the reason he had almost died. He had wanted to kill Christine for cheating on Erik with Robert. He could have walked away. He could have just let things be. But he wanted to kill her at that moment and nothing else mattered besides killing her. Now, seeing how Erik had killed her without even the slightest hesitation, he wasn't certain he could have done it. He wasn't sure he wanted her dead now. She had done horrible things to him including almost killing him, but now it seemed too much to want her to be dead. Raoul stared at the candles letting his thoughts take him away.

"You killed her," Raoul stated again this time accusingly.

Erik had flinched the first time Raoul said he killed Christine. Of course, the Vicomte would be opposed to killing a woman. Erik was not opposed to killing anyone. Christine had caused him so many problems already. Having her out of the picture seemed the only humane thing to do really. If he wanted to have a life unfettered with complications, eliminating Christine was the only thing he really needed to do. Now, even after slitting her throat, she was causing him problems.

The second time Raoul said he killed Christine, Erik stood up and walked in front of Raoul blocking his view of the candle he had been staring at. Grabbing Raoul's face rather roughly, Erik leaned down and kissed him hard. Raoul resisted and tried to push him away but had no leverage. Erik stopped though. He looked at Raoul and couldn't help but feel the slightest bit of relief. Raoul was alive and more or less well. Erik knew all about the leg, he'd seen it when he had saved the Vicomte from his estate. He was glad to discover they hadn't needed to amputate. The look Raoul was giving him at this moment was one of defiance. He hadn't wanted that kiss. It didn't matter if Raoul now hated him; he was alive.

Erik turned his back to Raoul. He was lying again. It did matter if Raoul hated him. It was the only thing that really mattered. He didn't know what to do.

"You killed her," Raoul said louder.

Erik didn't want to turn around and see the face of the man he loved more than life itself look at him with hatred.

"You killed her," Raoul repeated.

Erik turned around this time and yelled back at Raoul, "Yes, I slit her throat."

Raoul flinched. He looked at Erik sadly. He didn't want to fight with him. He wanted to be with Erik, but Erik had just slit the throat of someone he had been with and had been in love with. "I know she was cheating on you, but you didn't have to kill her."

Erik looked at Raoul in confusion. "What are you going on about?"

"Why don't you kill me already?" Raoul implored, "Stop this game that's been going between us. Stop the pain you keep giving me. Just stop."

Erik moved closer to Raoul, but Raoul shook his head. Staying rooted in his spot only by pure restraint, Erik replied in frustration, "There is no game."

"You just want to hurt me." Raoul's eyes were starting to tear. He didn't want to cry, but it just hurt. He had to stop the pain. Raoul knew he had promised to himself to be truthful but after what he had just seen, he had to say it. "You don't love me. I don't love you. Why can't you just leave me alone?"

Erik looked sympathetically at Raoul. "You're wrong on both accounts. You shouldn't lie to me."

Raoul looked up defiantly, "I'm not lying. I don't love you."

"That's not what your letter said," Erik replied.

Raoul turned his head away. The letter. In some ways, he had always known what was in the letter. When he had decided to stop lying to himself about his feelings, he realized what he had written in it. That night of the masquerade was a blur. It was something Raoul had wanted to suppress deep in his memories, suppress it so much that he would forget. He had managed well enough to do so. Unfortunately, forgetting also meant having to learn it all over again. Raoul had discovered that night that he had loved the Phantom of the Opera completely. He had fallen in love with not just the idea, not just the music, but everything about Erik, everything that made Erik who he was. It included the good things as well as the bad. He had realized what he had to do. He had to admit to himself that he loved Erik and had to stop lying about it to himself. That also meant he had to let Erik love whomever he wanted to love. However, some stubborn part of him hadn't wanted to admit defeat just yet.

"You said you loved me so much that you understood if I loved Christine." Erik commented. He looked at Raoul wanting to move towards him but restraining himself.

Raoul still had yet to face him.

"You asked me if I wanted you to leave Paris. At my request, you would. You were going to leave Paris so that you wouldn't get in the way." Still no response. He started tentatively, understanding he would have to reveal much more of himself than he had ever revealed to anyone in his life. "Do you know, I was afraid you'd left when I first read the note? I didn't know what to think. I hadn't responded to you, but your house had burned to the ground. You would confess your love for me and then leave?"

Raoul couldn't stop the tears from falling. He'd been willing to give up everything that night. It would have been the noble thing to do really. Instead, he forced himself to forget and had everything taken from him. More like stolen from him.

This time, Erik did move. He sat beside Raoul. "You said you loved me. Yet, you want to deny it now?"

Erik placed his hand on Raoul's shoulder. Feeling suffocated, Raoul shrugged off his hand and stood up quickly knocking the cane onto the floor. He lost his balance, but luckily, Erik was quick enough to stand up and steady him.

Raoul was grateful, but Erik wasn't letting go. In fact, Erik moved so that they were standing face to face. Erik waited expectantly.

Raoul had had to relearn everything about lying to himself. Had he not, he would have delivered the letter himself and faced the consequences. He could have avoided the fire incident, the burnt leg, and the heartache. He couldn't lie to himself anymore. He had nothing else to lose. He had already lost it. "I love you," Raoul finally looked Erik in the eye. There was no deep emotion when he said it though and Erik was uncertain how to react. "But it means nothing."

"How can you say that?" Erik feared that Raoul was lost to him. Raoul wasn't so empty. Raoul was supposed to be vibrant, passionate, thrumming with life. The person who stood in front of him was none of those things. He seemed more defeated and desolate. Erik wanted to shake some sense into him. His hands that were holding the Vicomte's arms tightened.

"You slit the throat the woman you love!" Raoul yelled. He couldn't believe how dense Erik was being, "Don't you see something terribly wrong with that?"

"No," Erik said finally understanding, "I slit the throat of the woman who tried to kill the man I love. I slit her throat because she had tried to kill you. I'm sure it was her idea of fun to sick her lapdog on you tonight."

Raoul shook his head. He couldn't believe it. He wasn't sure if he could let himself believe.

Erik let go of Raoul's shoulders when he knew the Vicomte would be able to stand by himself. He gently took Raoul's hands and looked at the damage done. Raoul stared at the gentleness of how Erik held his hands. Transfixed on their hands, he watched as Erik brought them up to kiss each hand. He knew he was blushing, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't even move. Erik let Raoul's hands rest on his shoulders so that Raoul was partially embracing him. Erik genuinely smiled at him, and Raoul couldn't help but smile back. He had never seen such an open expression on Erik's face before. It was enchanting.

Leaning in, Erik whispered in Raoul's ear, "I love you and only you."

Raoul's answer was immediate and filled with the fervor Erik expected, "I love you, too."

Then, Erik did what he had been wanting to do since that night of Don Juan Triumphant. He kissed Raoul. He savored the moment and increased the pressure of his lips. He felt his heart clench when Raoul tightened the grasp around his neck and practically melted into the kiss. Raoul leaned heavily on Erik and couldn't help it as his hands shifted to thread his fingers through Erik's hair.

There was only one problem. Erik was frustrated when he couldn't properly kiss Raoul. He was a bit apprehensive to do so, but he removed his mask and let it drop to the floor. He knew Raoul had seen him without it before and didn't care, but people change. He knew he'd changed. He didn't know how this new Raoul, who had gone through so much, would react. Raoul smiled at Erik radiantly before kissing him again. Raoul's hand reached up to caress his scarred cheek and to his surprise, Erik didn't flinch. In fact, he leaned into the hand.

Erik broke the kiss off and smiled when Raoul whimpered. He had to control himself from kissing the blonde again. The noises that were coming out of his mouth were arousing him to a point that was painful. "Let's move this to the bed."

Raoul nodded and sat down gingerly before surprising Erik by pulling him on top. Erik stopped himself from falling completely on the blonde afraid that he would smother him, but Raoul was having none of it. Snaking a hand behind Erik's neck, Raoul pulled him in for another kiss. Erik felt Raoul's tongue probe for entrance and he gladly acquiesced. Forgetting he wanted to keep his weight off Raoul, he allowed himself to lay on him wanting to feel more of his body. Raoul's tongue stroked his tongue rhythmically and Erik couldn't help the moan that escaped. He could feel Raoul smile before realizing that he shouldn't be laying on Raoul so much, but Raoul's mouth was insistent and he was not releasing Erik's head.

Somehow, Erik managed to move them both so that they were fully on the bed before focusing on their kissing again. To distract Raoul, Erik placed a knee between Raoul's legs and started to rub him. Raoul's hands were everywhere on his body, and he could scarcely concentrate on what he was trying to do. He showered Raoul's face and neck with kisses as he took the cloak off. He made certain to kiss the knick on Raoul's neck hoping to take some of the pain away. Unbuttoning the already tattered shirt, Erik's hand caressed Raoul's chest. Kissing Raoul on the lips again, one of Erik's hands focused on a nipple. Letting his thumb rub circles around the already sensitive skin, Raoul moaned louder.

Raoul was having a sensory overload. He knew he was rubbing himself on Erik's leg wantonly but when Erik stopped his ministrations to watch him, he couldn't help himself when he saw the raw desire in his eyes. Seeing Erik with that expression was a surprising turn on for him. However, Raoul managed to contain himself long enough to realize that he was already half naked and Erik had yet to undress.

He leaned forward and coaxed Erik out of his shirt before placing a kiss on Erik's scarred cheek and trailing down his neck. When Raoul realized he couldn't go lower, he was disappointed at their awkward position, but he managed to push Erik onto the bed. Raoul took off the last vestiges of clothing on him and watched as Erik did the same. Before Erik could move, Raoul had rolled onto him. Raoul couldn't remain on the bottom for fear that this was all some cruel dream again.

Straddling Erik, Raoul ground their hips together causing wonderful friction that sent jolts down his spine. It felt too good to be a dream though. Skin on skin friction was incredible and Raoul was so aroused he couldn't help but grind harder into Erik's hard erection. He flinched when he hit his left leg on the bed, but before Erik could react, Raoul was kissing him fervently. Raoul couldn't believe how hot Erik looked underneath him. He also couldn't believe how good it felt; whatever pain he felt in his leg was nothing compared to the pleasure of the moment, and he tried to convey that sentiment to Erik.

Erik wanted to close his eyes and revel in the intense pleasure, but watching Raoul look euphoric was almost enough for him. The blonde looked so sexy with his eyes half lidded and mouth partially opened as he ground their hips together. Erik immediately worried when he saw Raoul flinch. But then, Raoul was kissing him with his hot mouth trailing kisses down to his chest and latching onto a nipple.

Raoul paused in his efforts when he saw Erik bring his fingers to his mouth and started to suck on them. He shifted up without really thinking and began to suck Erik's fingers for him. The surprise on Erik's face was enough for Raoul to know he had done the right thing. Erik drew him away from his hand and kissed him passionately.

Raoul moaned loudly and he felt Erik's hand slide down to his ass. Erik felt Raoul tense as he teased Raoul's opening and he waited until he felt more than heard Raoul's moan before gently probing the tight hole.

Raoul tensed again feeling Erik's thick finger enter him. It was uncomfortable at first, but Erik's other hand was kneading his butt cheek and he was able to unclench. Erik slowly began thrusting his finger in and out waiting for when Raoul would relax. Raoul kissed him on the lips again to urge him to go on. He wanted this. Raoul was just suddenly nervous.

Erik smiled before grinding his hips against Raoul in an effort to distract him when he pushed the second finger in. Raoul moaned and Erik could see the effort it took him to relax. He began to scissor his fingers, stretching Raoul even further.

It was sudden when Erik's fingers brushed against something that made Raoul scream and jerk suddenly. Erik smiled knowing that Raoul was more than ready now. He moved to turn them over but Raoul refused. Erik was a bit disappointed but when he saw Raoul positioning himself over his erection, he knew that image would preoccupy his mind for the rest of his life. He moaned as Raoul lowered himself slowly. Erik threw his head back onto the bed closing his eyes. Raoul was so tight. It felt so good and it was too much to watch Raoul do this. He had to refrain himself from cumming when he had first entered Raoul and it was only sweet torture that followed.

Raoul sat down completely Erik filling him almost painfully. He couldn't help but feel a little accomplished (A/N: "… considering Erik was so well endowed") that he had put that expression on Erik's face. He shifted his hips to accustom himself to the feeling when he heard Erik moan loudly.

Raoul looked down and saw Erik looking at him intently. His blue eyes were a shade darker and intense. Never breaking their gaze, Erik grasped his hips gently urging him to move. Raoul acquiesced. He had a little difficulty lifting up because of his leg but Erik was helping. The movement was slow and precise. They were prolonging the feel. Each memorizing the feeling of being complete.

Their eyes never left the other and the motion sped up slowly. Raoul could feel heat pool low in his belly. He knew he couldn't last for much longer. He didn't want this feeling to end though. He wanted Erik's eyes never to leave him. They were filled with the passion he had wanted turned upon him since the beginning. They provided a warmth that added to how erotic the moment was. His breathing was coming in pants and he leaned forward to capture Erik's lips when he couldn't stand it anymore.

Erik thrust deeper wanting and needing to possess Raoul thoroughly. He couldn't believe how incredible it felt to be inside Raoul. He liked how Raoul didn't turn his gaze away. The blonde was moaning, and watching those lips, Erik felt himself losing control. He wanted to tell Raoul to kiss him already but he couldn't get the words out. When Raoul leaned forward to capture his lips, he briefly wondered if Raoul had read his mind.

Raoul pulled away and buried his head into Erik's shoulder when he came, the effects of his orgasm falling between their bodies. Raoul's head spun briefly from the intensity of his orgasm. His body felt as though he were floating and having Erik still move within him was making his post-orgasm sensitized body feel all the better.

Feeling Raoul's orgasm, Erik thrust a couple more times as Raoul clenched tightly before cumming inside the blonde.

Raoul lay limply on him panting heavily and Erik didn't want to pull out just yet. He stayed perfectly still reveling in the warmth that Raoul's body provided. Unfortunately, he knew Raoul would be uncomfortable eventually and he had to pull out.

The air was heavy with what heat they had produced with their activities, but Erik knew the cold would seep in again. He shifted their bodies so that they were under the blanket. He made sure he was opposite Raoul's injured leg. He embraced the blonde close to his heart and he was delighted when Raoul practically lay half on him, placing his head on Erik's chest. Raoul fit perfectly in the embrace, his body practically molding itself to Erik. His ribs protested a bit at the pressure, but he ignored it. He had forgotten that he had hurt his ribs completely when they had been having sex. Erik grinned at that and let his mind drift off to sleep. They didn't need to share any words. Not yet at least. Not when everything had been perfect.

Raoul lay sated in Erik's embrace. His mind had finally fallen back down from the clouds and he felt wonderfully boneless. He knew he had been bothered by something earlier but he could swear his brain had completely turned off after their coupling. It was perfect. He was where he belonged.

The sadness lingered deep in his mind though because the pain of separation had yet to be dissolved completely. There were still so many loose ends to be taken care of. Everything was fine for just right now, but Raoul was thinking long term. What would they do once Raoul moved out of the opera house? He didn't want to have random trysts in the cellar of the opera house. He didn't want to hide his love even though he really had no other choice, but he didn't want to have to visit the opera house every time he wanted to see Erik. More importantly though, did Erik really still want him after they'd just had sex? Maybe it was all a part of Erik's grand scheme to get back at him for ruining his plans from taking Christine. The warm arms around him and Erik's words were proof against that though. But what if Christine revealed their presence?

Raoul subconsciously shifted and Erik responded by tightening his embrace. Raoul suddenly realized with a shock that there was no Christine. He remembered what they'd been arguing about.

"You killed Christine," he said warily.

Erik tensed and Raoul was sorry he'd said that aloud. Erik had actually been relaxing and Raoul was certain Erik didn't relax very often. Erik pulled away slightly but Raoul embraced him and held him still.

"We just finished making love and you're thinking about Christine," Erik said tensely.

Raoul couldn't help but grin. Erik had just said "making love." It was an insignificant thing to be so happy about but Raoul couldn't and didn't want to stop the warmth that radiated from his heart when he heard it. It wasn't just sex. They had been making love.

"It's not just about Christine," Raoul tried to reassure him, "The mob will be after you again especially now that Robert has seen you."

Erik still had yet to relax but at least he stopped trying to move away from Raoul.

"So the impertinent twit has a name. You were thinking about her nonetheless," Erik replied. The strain in his voice was still present.

Raoul sighed and tried to reach Erik, "I was thinking about us." When Raoul received no response, he frowned but knew he had to admit this aloud, "I-," he hesitated, "I'd actually been trying to do the same when you came."

Raoul had felt Erik relax a bit when he had hesitated and it had encouraged him to go on. Erik placed his arms loosely around Raoul again.

"Trying to do what?" Erik asked.

"I'd been trying to kill Christine," Raoul said sheepishly.

Raoul could feel Erik tense again but he didn't realize it was from refraining his laughter. Raoul couldn't see the wry smile on Erik's face as he struggled. Had Raoul seen it, he wouldn't have believed that Erik's next question was innocent ignorance.

"What were you trying to do?" Erik asked again, hoping his voice was convincing enough to sound more incredulous then amused. He was glad Raoul couldn't see the expression on his face though he held Raoul closer just to make sure.

"I saw her kissing Robert and thought she was cheating on you after stealing you from me," Raoul rushed through his explanation hoping Erik hadn't really been jealous at Christine, "and all I could think at that was moment was how much I wanted to kill her."

Erik was touched. Even though Raoul had believed he'd chosen Christine over him, he was willing to get revenge for him.

"You were," Erik paused dramatically, "fighting for my honor?"

Raoul finally realized that Erik wasn't angry. "You're making fun of me," he said accusingly. He tried to push himself up to see Erik's face but Erik kept him down.

"I appreciate it," Erik started to laugh, not his maniacal evil genius laugh, and Raoul felt his indignation disappear with the entrancing sound and the surprisingly comforting way he could feel the vibrations move through him. He hadn't felt so close to someone in so long. Raoul wondered if he'd ever felt so content.

When Raoul settled back down, Erik couldn't help but feel the same. Thinking the subject was dropped, Raoul let himself drift to sleep. The problem of Christine hadn't been solved yet but Raoul figured they could deal with it when the time came.

Almost asleep, Erik said suddenly, amusement clearly in his voice, "You were planning to beat her to death with your cane?"

Raoul smiled at his amusement, "Now _you're_ thinking about her?" Raoul mumbled, "She's dead, let's leave it at that until tomorrow."

Erik shrugged his shoulders before stating matter-of-factly, "I didn't kill her. Just took what was rightfully mine." He held Raoul closer to emphasize his last point.

Raoul snuggled deeper in the embrace before he realized what Erik had just said. Sleep completely forgotten, he sat up and forced Erik to do the same. "What!"

o.o.o.o (A/N: and everyone's like, _what the hell?_ _NOOOooo_.)

Madame Giry could not believe that Erik had slit Christine's throat when he had said he wouldn't harm her. She was just relieved that Christine was still alive though. She had been able to stop the bleeding long enough for Robert to call a doctor and help. Now, Madame Giry and Robert were waiting outside of Christine's room while the doctor worked on Christine. Andre and Firmin had been banished to their offices after fussing too much. Madame Giry looked over at Robert feeling a little bad for him. Christine's blood was all over his shirt and he looked to be in shock.

Trying to distract him, Madame Giry placed her hand on his shoulder before sitting down beside him. "What happened?"

Robert looked a little fearful at that moment. He looked around before starting shakily, "I was helping Christine move the props when I heard a noise. I had been holding a sword at the time and Christine was sitting down. Christine said it was nothing, but I know I heard something. I thought it was the Phantom of the Opera but I couldn't see anything in the darkness. Then," Robert hesitantly began. He didn't want to say it, but he knew Madame Giry was a scary woman to lie to, "Christine and I kissed."

Madame Giry sighed softly to herself. Well, that would explain why Erik attacked, she concluded before hearing the next part of Robert's story.

"Then, some blonde came out of the shadows and hit us with a cane."

Her eyebrow lifted minutely at his statement. Madame Giry had seen Raoul but she hadn't suspected that he had actually started the whole ordeal. She was a bit surprised.

"He was going to attack Christine again so I stood between them. He didn't fit the description of what the Phantom of the Opera looked like, but he didn't answer me when I asked who he was. Christine looked like she knew who it was so I asked her," Robert continued the next part, feeling shameful again. He rushed through the next part, "She said he was the Phantom of the Opera. He refused to admit it, but…"

Madame Giry cut him off with a quick gesture of her hand. "She said he was the Phantom of the Opera?"

Robert nodded. Madame Giry couldn't believe how stupid Christine was. That girl was just asking for trouble everywhere she went. She shook her head and motioned for Robert to continue.

"I had disarmed him and was about to kill him. You know, for the good of the Opera Populaire of course," Robert tried to defend his actions, "Then Christine yelled. I turned and saw the real Phantom of the Opera holding a cane to her throat."

"How badly did you injure the Vicomte?" Madame Giry prompted. She had seen Raoul and she didn't see too much blood, but she wanted to know for sure.

"So he really was the Vicomte de Chagny," Robert said slowly.

She nodded in response.

"I don't think I injured him too badly. I didn't really check after the Opera Ghost was here. He wasn't moving at all though for a bit there." Robert waited for that piece of information to sink in before continuing. "The Opera Ghost held a cane against her throat and before I could even move he had slit her throat. I didn't even realize the cane had been a sword. He was about to kill me when the Vicomte stopped him. Then he kidnapped him and left when you came."

Madame Giry felt tired all of a sudden. At least, she no longer felt angry. She couldn't believe how many mistakes Christine had made so far. It seemed she had been lucky to even survive this encounter. Threatening Raoul in front of Erik had been a terrible idea. Madame Giry was absolutely certain that Erik was in love with Raoul now. She only hoped he had managed to patch things up between them. The Vicomte was known to be willful.

To her dismay, she had forgiven both Erik and Raoul while Robert had been telling the last portion of the story. She worried for both of their health considering they were both already seriously injured before the scuffle. She stood up deciding to go check up on them when the doctor came out and asked them to enter.

Madame Giry considered just leaving but the doctor insisted and Robert looked like he was going to have a panic attack so she agreed.

The doctor walked them in and assured that the cut hadn't been too deep and she hadn't bled out long enough to be dangerous. Thankfully, Christine was unconscious now.

Christine lay on her bed as though she had just fallen asleep. The tightly wound bandages around her neck were indication that it was otherwise the case.

"Before I put her to sleep, she wanted both of you to stay with her. She's going to be really agitated and disoriented when she wakes up," the doctor told them both.

Robert pulled a chair to her bedside and took one of Christine's hands to hold.

The doctor looked at Madame Giry meaningfully before getting both of their attention, "I have something very important to tell you two about her condition. I will be speaking to Andre and Firmin afterwards of course but you two will need to know this." He waited until both had their attentions fixed on him, "Her vocal chords have been damaged. She couldn't speak when I was helping her, and I do not know if she will ever be able to speak again."

o.o.o.o

0.0.0.0

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

I hope it was okay for you. I couldn't get the thought of Raoul riding Erik out of my head for the longest time.

So that's it.

o.o.o.o


	19. Epilogue

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash fic.

Warning(s): homosexual content, slash!

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: It's been a while but you know… So, I reread it and realized I had meant to add an epilogue to it. So here it is.

Thanks for everyone who still read it. Who's still interested in me writing even though it takes me forever to update. I'm too absentminded sometimes.

Oh yeah, and sorry but this chapter is tame and there are no graphic scenes. There could've been but that'd be one helluva wrap-up of a story if I did. I think that last chapter tapped me out. Everything has closure here and a happy ending; it's a completely different tone from the rest of the story because I couldn't just leave everyone unhappy. I'm a sucker in that way. It's why I don't kill characters off. Maybe I'll do it one day but I can't help but give everyone a happy ending since life as it is sucks already.

o.o.o.o

Pass Time: Epilogue o-

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last Time: Well, everyone made it out of Pass Time alive. That's got to be something. Did you see the fact that Christine wasn't dead coming? I hope not. I of course had the urge to kill her but then thought I shouldn't for the sake of well… torturing her. So, this is just a wrap up of what happened with all the loose ends I left you with before.

o.o.o.o

-.-

Raoul sat in his box watching the stage as the performers practiced. It wasn't that great of a view like from Box 3 or more recently Box 5, but it was still a place he could watch unnoticed. He sometimes had to squint to see faces but he could care less. It was not as though he was paying that close of attention to their practice. His mind was wandering, wandering over the past two months.

Two months. He had had two months of bliss and he couldn't have felt more relaxed. Relieved. Maybe it was both.

_That fateful night in which he and Erik consummated their love for each other seemed so long ago. He remembered the shock of finding out that Christine was still alive. Sure, he had felt uncertain about killing her but keeping her alive also meant that she'd be meddling in their business and now that she'd seen both him and Erik alive, there'd be hell to pay._

_Erik simply wrapped his arms around Raoul and told him to not worry about it. Of course, Raoul had refused to be patronized and demanded that Erik tell him exactly what he had planned. Once again, Erik tried to pull the blonde down onto the bed to lie down but Raoul stubbornly sat up and crossed his arms waiting for an answer._

"_I want to know what exactly happened and what you have planned," Raoul stated firmly._

_Erik considered his demand for a second before leaning forward so that his breath mingled with Raoul's and stated a little huskily, "If you still have enough energy left to think about Christine, maybe we should be putting that mouth to better use."_

_Raoul blushed hotly at the comment but before he could reply, Erik had captured his lips and pushed him onto the bed. _

Then, they continued to do many things that Raoul currently tried to keep off his mind for his trousers were becoming exceedingly tight simply from the thought. He shifted in his seat a bit before leaning his arms and head on the railing of the balcony. He sighed deeply.

He _had_ been relaxed. He _had_ been happy and content. He had been many things these past two months. The opera house had started to feel like home really. With Madame Giry and Henri always worrying about him, it definitely had the whole family package. Raoul couldn't help but feel the embarrassment all over again from the thought of Madame Giry and Henri. He still wasn't over that particular ordeal.

_Unfortunately, for Raoul and Erik, the Madame Giry's and Henri's concern had also been in place that night. Erik had managed to tire Raoul enough so that he had fallen asleep with no more questions or thoughts of Christine, but he also had tired himself out. So, in the early hours of the morning, the noises that should have alarmed Erik of intruders went completely unnoticed._

_However, when Madame Giry gruffly cleared her throat and called Erik's name, he awoke. Still groggy and unbelievably comfortable with Raoul practically draped on him, he glared at the intruders and felt around for his Punjab lasso, not caring one bit of who they were. He just knew he would kill them for waking him up from his slumber and from the best night of his life. He paused in his search when he saw some old man and Madame Giry who was averting her eyes._

_Henri also cleared his throat but pointed to the crumpled blanket that had gathered at the bottom of the foot of the bed. Erik looked down at his naked body and then at Raoul's, considered momentarily about not bothering to do anything at all before reaching down to pull the blanket up to cover them. His movements woke Raoul. He settled back onto the bed with his arm possessively around the Vicomte. Raoul rubbed his eyes and smiled radiantly at Erik who couldn't help but return a small smile of his own. Raoul leaned up kissing Erik gently on the lips murmuring a 'good morning.' Erik's hand found its way onto Raoul's neck and forced the kiss to be something deeper. It was only when Raoul started to moan and the blanket began to make its way toward the bottom of the bed again did both Madame Giry and Henri think Erik was really going to continue to ignore them and just have his way with the Vicomte. They both yelled out at the same time. _

_Madame Giry shouted, "Erik," both in reproach and shock._

_While Henri yelled, "Raoul," in just pure shock._

_Upon hearing his name, Raoul pulled away quickly from the kiss and Erik reluctantly allowed it. Finally realizing that they had an audience, Raoul pulled the blanket up to his neck and stared in horror at his butler and Madame Giry. Both looked a bit flustered. He spared a glance at Erik only to glare at him. Raoul had wanted to be invisible at that moment or maybe die. Anything was better than what had just happened. He again glared at Erik. He had a sneaking suspicion that the other man had known all about their audience. Raoul did pause for a single moment to congratulate himself for making some advancement with the Phantom since Erik wasn't bothering to hide behind his mask in front of the others. He was also silently thanking that the others didn't shy away from the deformity._

_That was only for a single moment though. Raoul noticed the smug look on his face and switched back to glaring immediately. He looked back at the two uncertainly but noticed that although they had been a bit flustered they didn't look one bit surprised that Raoul and Erik were in bed together. An uncomfortable silence fell and Raoul couldn't help but fidget. He didn't know what to say. He had just been caught making out with the Phantom. What does one say after doing that? 'So, how has your evening been?' As if he could just start with such petty small talk._

_Erik was the one to break the silence. With his arm still wrapped possessively around Raoul's shoulders, he nonchalantly asked, "So, how has your evening been?"_

_Raoul stared at him in awe. He fleetingly wondered if Erik could somehow read his mind. Raoul had to admit though that he didn't think he could have pulled off saying that sentence so calmly._

_Madame Giry glared at him. "Wipe that smug look off of your face."_

_Raoul feared that Erik would react badly to being ordered around but he relaxed when he felt Erik simply shrug._

_It hadn't been a very good idea to upset Madame Giry though. As punishment for injuring Christine and further aggravating their own injuries, Madame Giry and Henri banded together and declared both of them to be under house arrest. Well, not so much house arrest as confined to their rooms. Erik had not been pleased either but Madame Giry had threatened to call the police and tell them exactly what had happened. Then she mentioned something about keeping his promise. Erik nodded his head rather grudgingly before commenting that he was the only person to know the way to drop Raoul off._

_Once in the room however, Erik feigned dizziness and managed to convince both Henri and Madame Giry the best course of action was to leave them both in the room. Luckily, both Madame Giry and Henri were called out at that moment so they had to agree. Madame Giry did leave some disturbing parting news before she closed the door though. Something to the effect that if either of them 'over exerted' themselves again she would make certain they would no longer be able to exert anything ever again._

Raoul shuddered at the thought. It had been enough though. It had been enough to be in the same room, to sleep in the same bed, to be able to touch each other whenever they wanted to. It would be another month before Madame Giry would deem both of them well enough to retract her last threat. Raoul didn't think he could better define the phrase sexual tension before that though.

The first few days, Raoul remembered with amusement, they hadn't known what to say to each other. It was one thing to chase after the other and be physical with one another, but when it came to talking, they hadn't known what to speak about at all. One of their first discussions was the organ. They still hadn't figured out what had happened to it. Raoul had sheepishly admitted he did not even notice the organ was missing because he had been too focused on attacking Christine. Erik had grinned a bit and Raoul realized he could care less what embarrassing things he told just as long as Erik would smile. It made him look unbearably handsome.

Raoul hadn't liked the silence too much so he'd been the first one to recount the major things that had happened from his perspective since Don Juan Triumphant and even discussed what had happened before that. Erik had been more reticent but given the fact that they had to spend a whole month sharing the same room with nothing else to do forced him to open up as well. Raoul knew it had been difficult for Erik but he was happy knowing that Erik thought Raoul was someone he could trust and make an effort for. It had been enlightening and wonderful. Raoul was glad he had decided to stay in Paris.

The start of the second month had been exciting. Raoul had discovered many things that month. He discovered that sex on a balcony though exciting because of the possibility of being caught was also somewhat uncomfortable. He discovered that there were a lot of good places in the opera house hidden from view. Most importantly, he discovered that the one really good thing about having a leg injury was that no one questioned the way you walked. They would however wonder when you wouldn't sit down. Raoul grinned at the thought. It had all been extremely embarrassing at the time but at least now, he could look back and laugh at himself.

Raoul immediately sobered though.

He would be going home today. Home. He was home in his opinion. He hadn't left the opera house since he had first arrived and now he wasn't sure if he wanted to leave.

He was overjoyed that he would no longer have to continue hiding in the shadows of the Opera Populaire. He had yet to be found out by anyone else in the opera house. Christine had been scared into silence, though technically she couldn't have spoken had she wanted to. Raoul realized that she had changed drastically in the past two months. She had returned to being part of the ballet corps. The new girl the managers had hired took her place as a principal singer. At first, Christine had been angry but with both Meg's and Robert's support, she realized she could be happy without being the star. Christine was reminding him more and more of the little girl he had known as a child, youthful, energetic, kind, and a dreamer. It was comforting to know that that girl still existed. Robert had also kept his silence. He stayed by Christine's side and Raoul could tell he was falling in love. He could tell Christine was too and Raoul found out that he was actually glad Erik hadn't killed her.

His mind drifted back towards his estate. He wasn't certain that the estate was really home anymore. He would have to leave Erik at the opera house unless he found a way to convince him to go. He was too afraid of the answer if he asked the question. So, he hadn't asked. He'd been avoiding Erik the past few days knowing that their separation was inevitable. The opera was Erik's life. Erik wouldn't be able to listen to the opera whenever he wanted. He couldn't be a part of it if he were to leave. Raoul couldn't ask him to leave it all behind. Raoul resolved himself to thinking that at least he could visit the Opera Populaire whenever he wanted. Erik wouldn't be able to go out very much and Raoul didn't want to inconvenience him.

Raoul was shocked out of his musings when a pair of arms encircled him. Immediately knowing it was Erik, he leaned into the touch.

"What are you doing back here?" Erik whispered.

Raoul smiled at the possessive way Erik still held him. "Just thinking." Raoul knew it was now or never.

"It's almost dark and you're leaving tonight."

Raoul nodded. Erik didn't seem affected at all by his departure. "Do you care?"

Erik released Raoul from his embrace and moved so that they were face to face.

Raoul elaborated seeing that Erik wasn't going to answer, "Do you care that I'm leaving?"

Erik scoffed. Raoul knew he should be used to Erik's attitude by now since he was nothing if not blunt, but it still didn't answer his question. Erik noticing this replied, "I don't care where you live, Raoul." Raoul saddened at his reply, but Erik continued, "Distance means nothing to me. I would find my way to you no matter what."

Raoul nodded and blushed at his words. So many times did he wish to have the eloquence and poet's vocabulary to express what he felt toward Erik, but he was always found lacking. Erik always had the perfect words to make Raoul blush and stun him into silence. It was embarrassing in his opinion. He wasn't supposed to act like some swooning, blushing maiden.

Erik pulled the blonde through the opera house to the back where Madame Giry, Henri, and a carriage awaited. It was only when Erik was sure no one else was around that he released Raoul's hand.

Madame Giry walked forward and wished the Vicomte good luck. Raoul nodded politely and thanked her for all the effort she had put into keeping him safe. Not to mention the fact that besides all the work she had at the opera house she had also helped in the transport of all of the items Raoul had managed to accrue in the time that had passed.

Raoul grudgingly got into the carriage. He looked to see if Erik would wave good-bye to him, but he was speaking to Madame Giry. The blonde couldn't help but sulk when he saw her give his Erik a hug. Looking at Henri, he wondered why they weren't leaving yet.

Erik approached the carriage and climbed in. Seeing the confusion on Raoul's face, he stated matter-of-factly, "I'm coming to escort you to your new home."

The relief that coursed through Raoul's veins made him angry at himself. He couldn't help but think he was pathetic wanting the smallest amount of time because he was too childish to be apart from his love. It wasn't as though they'd never see each other again, but he had been spoiled and couldn't help it.

As they rode up to his estate, he couldn't quite see the exterior for it was rather dark, but many of the windows glowed brightly.

Henri explained, "I will be giving you a rather brief tour so that you know the major rooms. In the morning, you will be able to fully explore the new layout."

Raoul was hardly paying any attention to what he was saying. He just knew this was it. This was their parting moment.

With Henri in the lead, the three walked through the entrance of the new house. Henri was explaining about the decorations and the small facets. Erik was only partially listening because most of his attention was on the blonde whose mind seemed to be completely elsewhere. Raoul dutifully followed behind trying to gather all of his courage to ask Erik to stay with him. He barely realized they were making their way through the household.

Walking up the stairs, Henri showed them the room that would be Raoul's study. Erik, seeing an opportunity, gestured to Henri to leave them for a moment.

Left alone in his new study, Raoul finally realized the tour had been halted. He looked at Erik in confusion. "Where'd Henri go?"

Erik ignored the question and asked bluntly, "What's the matter? You haven't been paying any attention at all."

Raoul blushed hotly; he averted his eyes and finally looked at the room. It was fully furnished with a large wooden desk. A whole wall was filled with an assortment of books and papers. There was a fireplace and several other chairs.

He tried to lie even though he knew it was pointless, "What makes you think anything is wrong?"

Erik didn't bother to justify the question with an answer. He pointedly stared at Raoul. Raoul stared back. The image was all wrong though. During the past two months, Erik hadn't been the Phantom, though Raoul was very aware of the flurry of notes that had gone to the managers and Robert, which provided a cover story for Christine's accident. It was obvious no one would believe it, but nothing would be confirmed either. Raoul fondly remembered the hysteria of the aftershocks of the new incident. They finally realized why the new girl had hired and Raoul had wondered how long Erik had planned his revenge to have provided Christine's replacement already.

Erik had been Erik, which meant he had refrained from wearing the mask. Now though, having to move outside of the room and outside of the familiar shadows of the opera house, Erik wore his porcelain mask. Said man stood expectantly for Raoul to respond. The blonde moved forward and into his love's personal space. Reaching up, Erik remained motionless as Raoul removed the mask. He gently placed it on the nearby side table.

The fact that no one else in the world alive or dead had ever been given the liberty to do such an action so casually besides himself touched Raoul. Everyday he thought he loved Erik with everything he had, everything that made him who he was, but there were moments like these when he felt that it wasn't enough. He wasn't enough for the man that had put so much trust in him. Cupping Erik's face with his hands, Raoul leaned forward to give him a kiss.

Erik met him halfway.

When they separated, Erik pulled Raoul closer his arms settling around Raoul's waist. Breathing in Raoul's scent, he kissed the blonde's temple and whispered in his ear, "You can't distract me that easily."

Raoul smiled and buried his face in the juncture between Erik's neck and shoulder. This was perfection. If he could stay like this forever, he would be content.

However, Erik pushed him away so that he could see his face. Still staring at his chest, Raoul blurted out, "I want you here."

Somehow, Erik contained his mirth, but he smiled indulgently at the man in his arms. "Well, Raoul. This room in particular? I'm sure we can arrange something. That desk looks sturdy, but keep in mind we must pace ourselves. There are many rooms to christen actually."

It took a moment to realize of what Erik was speaking, and when it dawned on him, he managed to blush and pout at the same time. He was however a bit ashamed that part of the reason he was blushing was because the statement had aroused him. He was thankful that Erik had given them some distance or else he'd definitely have been discovered. Raoul tried to calm himself before attempting a second time to voice his thoughts, "I don't want to be apart from you. Ever." He paused trying to make Erik understand completely. "The mere idea of us living apart makes me sad, and I know you'd be giving up everything you've worked for and loved: the Opera Populaire, your home, and the opera itself. But… but, I wanted to ask you if you'd stay here to live with me."

Raoul couldn't read the expression on Erik's face. He knew Erik was purposely keeping a poker face but Raoul didn't know whether it was because Erik didn't know how to put him down gently or to accept. Erik sighed and kissed Raoul so quickly he didn't have time to react.

"I take it this is also the reason you've been avoiding me these past few days?" Raoul turned his head bashfully. "And pretended to be asleep every evening and gone every morning?" Raoul nodded.

Erik smiled, a sight Raoul always marveled at since he so rarely genuinely smiled so fully. He continued, "All my belongings have already been transferred here and I have been formally introduced to your employees… maskless."

Raoul stared at him in shock. "I think I'm going to need a moment." He could see the amusement in Erik's eyes clearly.

His things were already here? Introduced to everyone that lived and worked in this house? It was true that he didn't actually need any introductions since every staff member had been allowed entrance to his room in the opera house. It wasn't as though he had been trying to hide Erik, but to be formally introduced meant they accepted him. It was better than anything Raoul could ever hope for. He had feared how the people who probably knew him best would respond to his love, but it was okay.

Still stuck in his musings, he was shaken out of them when Erik kissed him on the cheek. "I've told you this many times before. I'm not letting you go ever again."

The blonde still couldn't believe that everything had been going so well for him. "But what about your operas and the opera house?"

"The only thing in my life that I've worked for and loved that has ever mattered has been you." Erik paused dramatically, letting his words sink in. "Do you understand now?"

Raoul knew he was grinning like an idiot, but the joy he felt was overflowing. Raoul considered letting Erik have his way with him right there, but before Raoul could do anything else, Henri cleared his throat.

Erik glared at the butler, but he was disappointed to see he was still unaffected by it. It disturbingly reminded him of the immunity Madame Giry had with him.

"I'll let you two look at the other rooms tomorrow at your leisure. Before I leave you, there's one room I must show you. You may not be able to find it by yourselves."

Raoul looked to Erik for clarification but saw he was just as confused as him. Both started to move towards the door but Henri moved further into the room. They watched as Henri scanned the book titles from the library.

"Looking for some nighttime reading?" Erik asked caustically.

Finally choosing a book, Henri pulled on it, but it only came out partially. The wall lurched and moved to reveal a passageway. "Dante's Inferno." Henri stated.

Erik took this new development in stride, "How appropriate."

He directed a stunned yet excited Raoul forward as Henri took a candle and entered the darkness. Both men took in their surroundings. The passageway was bland, the walls simple, sturdy stones. They were walking down numerous flights of stairs.

"A basement?" Raoul thought aloud.

"You have the capability to lock the passageways, which I'll show you tomorrow."

"Passageways?" Erik asked.

Henri responded, "There are three other passages: one leading to the kitchen, one leading directly to the outside, and one to the master bedroom."

Erik raised an eyebrow. He could almost respect Raoul's butler now. Reaching the bottom of the stairs finally, Erik immediately edited that thought to definitely respecting Henri.

The trio entered a large, spacious cavern, which had many candles already lit. The organ Raoul had given to Erik sat against one wall but it had been improved. The pipes now climbed up a significant amount of wall behind it. To one side, there were blank canvasses and paints. In another portion sat other artistic mediums. Erik was actually stunned into a mental pause. Raoul looked around amazed. His gaze fell on Erik face and he could only stare in awe himself. His eyes met Henri's and he hoped that all the gratitude he felt towards making Erik this happy could be conveyed. Henri nodded and moved toward a different passageway from which they had come.

He paused before leaving, "We had heard rumors that you were an artistic genius."

Henri's voice finally broke Erik out of his amazement. Henri pointed to another passageway that was closest to the organ. "That leads to the bedroom. A rock protrudes a foot away from the last step."

With those last words, Henri left.

Erik walked towards the organ slowly with Raoul following closely behind. It was larger than his last one and he could already imagine the sounds that would come forth from it. He let his fingers glide gently over the keys.

Raoul commented offhandedly, "So that's where the organ had gone."

Erik stopped walking and just stared at instrument. Raoul was pleased to see a comfortable chair beside the organ and sat down watching Erik's face. Erik placed his hand reverently on the wood. "Did you plan this?"

Raoul sighed, "If only I had. I'm just grateful to my staff."

The other man nodded absently.

Raoul grinned, "Are you going to play or just stand there and just touch it?"

Erik looked away from the organ to glare and step menacingly at Raoul. Before Raoul could react, Erik had grabbed him and thrown him over his shoulder. He moved towards the stairs that Henri had indicated lead to the master bedroom.

"Erik!" Raoul shouted indignantly. He struggled half-heartedly not wanting them to fall down the stairs. "Put me down. What are you doing?"

Erik ignored him completely.

"Put me down!"

Erik finally complied and the Vicomte was haphazardly tossed onto a bed. Raoul looked around and realized that this was their bedroom.

Erik grinned. "Do you want me here, too?"

Raoul crossed his arms and sat up. "You haven't played the organ for many months. What are you doing?"

Erik moved onto the bed and pinned Raoul onto his back. "What am I doing?"

Raoul nodded, knowing he was walking into a trap.

"Well, someone's been avoiding me these past _four_ days. The correct question would be 'who am I doing?' And I would answer, you." Erik closed the short distance between them and kissed Raoul thoroughly.

o.o.o.o

When Henri entered the kitchen, the other staff members stood there waiting.

One commented flippantly, "Now we'll never be able to sleep with his playing that organ."

Henri frowned disappointedly at her.

She raised her hands in a placating gesture, "I don't care as long as the Vicomte is happy, but still…"

Henri smiled before saying, "I think we'll have quiet at least tonight."

o.o.o.o

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o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Okay, I think that's it. That's my cookie for you! Summer is almost ending and I feel sad so I had to write some POTO. I won't miss the weather so much, but I will miss the overall nostalgic affect summer has on me.

o.o.o.o


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